Alamutian Empire
by Literary Melody
Summary: Direct continuation of Persian Empire. There is a new threat that is starting in Alamut, and it's spreading rapidly throughout the world. I suck at summaries. Please read Persian Empire first. Please review!
1. The Streets of Alamut

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**Holy crapola! Wow you guys! 17 reviews! That's a record of amazingness! I love you all! You can't even begin to understand how much I love you guys! You make me so happy!**

*clears throat* Uh..anyway...kay, if you are new, I would reccommend that you read my first story, Persian Empire. This is a DIRECT continuation off of that one. No joke. Serious direct continuation. I only cut it off because there were some people who thought that it would be best to leave it off right there after the movie was finished, and I didn't want to make anyone read the rest of the story if they didn't want to. So, alas, here we are. And a sequel is always fun right? But anway! Newcomers, you don't need to read the whole thing necessarily, just start about halfway through or 3/4 of the way through and you should be fine. It's a movie fic, so if you've seen the movie, I'm sure you'll figure out where ya are. *gives thumbs up*

Now, *rubs hands together* We are here! On the new post! And as promised, since you guys reviewed, here is the first chapter to the story!

But here is the most interesting part. Bellathedisenchanted and I were talking, and she gave me a pretty interesting idea. Remember in Persian Empire when the 100th reviewer got a one-shot dedicated to them? Well, I'm doing that again. Except this time, the first reviewer for this story will get the one-shot! So don't forget to review on your way out! :)

And now, onto the story. Sorry that took so long, but I gots a lot to say. :)

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Dastan smiled gaily at his future wife, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze. She looked up at him and smiled back.

"You have the whole army looking for you, Princess," he said cheekily.

Tamina rolled her eyes as they walked out of her hiding spot and into the crowded streets of Alamut. "And yet, it is the man who I have supposedly never met before in my life who finds me."

The prince merely shrugged, the smile on his face never disappearing for a second. He just couldn't believe it. After being so terrified that Tus would be the one to marry his love, after wanting so desperately just to see her breathing and alive, he was granted everything he could ever dream of wanting. She remembered! He still didn't know how it was possible, but all he could think about was that she actually remembered everything that they had shared together. She knew who he was! And now, even more remarkable, he was going to get to marry that wonderful woman!

"Dastan, have you told your brothers anything? About what had happened?" she asked suddenly, looking around at all of the little shops on the streets, smiling at the men behind the counter politely while they only gawkedat her beauty. She seemed to be enjoying herself, Dastan thought, eyeing a man warily who had yet to catch Tamina's eye. He could already tell that he was going to hate having to scare away all of the men chasing after her.

Nevertheless, he tried to ignore the men and only focus on her. "No, I haven't. They've asked how and why I know the things I do, but I just tell them that the reasoning behind what happened is not important and what was, was that we were able to estinguish any possible corruption or tragedy."

Tamina looked back up at Dastan, worry in her beautiful brown eyes. "Do you ever plan to tell them?"

Dastan shrugged, looking down at the road. "Perhaps someday, when I see fit to tell them. The wound is still too fresh for me, I am afraid. Losing all of my family to someone _in _my family, losing you. Retelling something like that after I just saw all you...die. I can't do that. Not right now."

"Dastan, I am not trying to rush you. But I do believe that letting them know would be a wise decision. Take all of the time you need. I understand," she told him sympathetically, resting her other hand on his arm, the warmth spreading through his bones and soothing him.

The rest of thier little journey was silent and peaceful. It was nice not have to worry about anything. True, their love for each other had blossomed while they had been in great peril, but now that they had time to breathe and simply enjoy the other's company, Tamina knew that it was just going to be wonderful.

She rested her head on his shoulder lovingly, getting some surprised looks out of the people around her. They all knew he was a Persian-the one who destroyed thier city no less, and here their Princess treated him as a brother or even as a lover if one saw their entwined fingers and Dastan's thumb caressing the back of her hand. But Tamina did not care. For once, she had an opportunity to be whoever she wanted and to do whatever she wanted, and she was going to do just that. She was going to marry him anyway.

"People are staring at us, Tamina," Dastan whispered in her ear gently, making her sigh and snuggle her head into his neck cavity more.

"Let them stare. We are to be married anyway," she said simply, her breath tickling Dastan's neck in most teasing of ways.

"Yes, but they don't know that," Dastan pointed out. "They probably think that you are praising the man who destroyed your city, which would not be something popular for a monarch to do."

Tamina sighed, acknowledging his point and withdrew her head from his neck regretfully. "Dastan, I am supposed to be the logical one, not you."

"What am I supposed to be then?" he asked cheekily, his perfect arching in playful question.

"Something that takes up space," she responded playfully, laughing when she saw his pretend hurt gaze.

"'Something that takes up space?' I am the Lion of Persia and one of Persia's best fighters. And I happened to have saved the world once, and you tell me that I was created to take up space? How flattering a position that is," Dastan mused.

Tamina shook her head vigorously. "You wouldn't have been able to save the world if you didn't have me," she told him smugly pointing a proud finger at herself.

Her beloved simply shrugged. "I would have managed, I think. You talked a lot," he said, scrunching his nose up, making her arch her eyebrows. "Oh, don't look so innocent. You wouldn't shut up, even after I told you to."

She didn't say a word.

"And don't think that you can redeem yourself by not talking now. Things are different now," Dastan reasoned, beginning to get slightly worried with Tamina's silence. She always was rather tempramental.

She smirked maliciously and continued to not say a word to him, only looking around, obviously enjoying the new game.

"Tamina, I _like _hearing you talk now. It makes me happy," he tried once more, walking in front of her, thus walking backwards. He took both of her hands and looked deeply into her eyes.

By now, she smiled genuinely at him, making him huff a sigh of relief. "And I like hearing you panic for nothing," Tamina said cheekily, patting his cheek affectionately. He glared playfully at her, though they continued walking until they came up to a little stand that sold assorted fruits.

Tamina looked excitedly at the fruit, admiring each one equally.

"Which ones are your favorite?" Dastan asked close to her ear.

Tamina looked up at him happily and pointed to a barrel of cherries. "They have always been my favorite. My mother, while she was still alive, would get the maids to freeze some cream from the cows. Then, we'd always play a little game. While waiting for the cream to come up to my chamber, we'd eat as many little cherries we could before the cream would come up. If I won, I'd get to rub some of the cream on her face. If she won, she'd make me give her a small bite of the cream. We did that after dinner almost every night." Tamina sighed, looking at barrel of cherries.

"If I had the right currency, I'd buy you some," he offered. But when the clerk wasn't looking, Dastan conspicuously stole two cherries from the barrel and offered one to her, popping the other one in his mouth. "Are all of the cherries like these ones?" he asked after the cherry slid juicily down his throat.

She nodded and ate her own cherry, biting into it delicately and savoring it. They were the best cherries in all of the world, she had been told. And there was no doubt she had in her mind about that little fact.

They walked a little longer before they ran into some of the guards. Once they saw their Princess in the possession of the Persian prince, some snorted in disbelief.

"Ah, the authorities. She was rather easy to find. You should learn more about her before you go searching in places she's never been," Dastan told them, passing Tamina into their care.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about, I assure you. Good afternoon, Prince," she said, bowing her head slightly before walking inside, butterflies flying about in her stomach.

He could make such a girl out of her!

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**Hi! Kay, so I know that this chapter is a little short compared to my other ones. These chapters are going to be just as long, I assure you. I just need to get into the story, and the first chapter is always the most difficult to manipulate. The next one will be longer, I promise. :)**

**Remember, first reviewer gets a one-shot! So hurry along and review! And the idea doors are still open; feel free to walk right in. I don't bite. :)**

**Love you all lots!**


	2. Welcome to the Family

**Hello, Everyone! Seven reviews! What a brilliant thing to see in my inbox...**

**Also, I have the winner for the one-shot giveaway right here: **nothingfeelsgood**, congratulations! Now, unfortunately, you don't have an official account, or so it appears, and as such, you are incapable of private messaging. So, if you could review this chapter, and tell me what you want in your little one-shot, I would be glad to read it and write the one-shot for you. :) Congrats, again! **

**Folks, don't be disheartened, I do this every 100 reviews, so there will HOPEFULLy be another time when I am able to offer a prize like this to ya. :)**

**Thanks to those of you who reviewed, and since I forgot in the last chapter, I need a disclaimer...hehe...**

**Unfortunately, all of these characters, except Kasha who made her appearence in the last chapter as Tus' wife, I do not own. I wish I could, cause then I would have ultimate control, but alas, that is prohibited. I also own all of the wives that I mention in this chapter. They probably won't make an appearance in the story, but they are mine, so let it is well known. Thanks! I do however, own the plot, or at least part of it. **

**Sinewyk has given me a few ideas, and I think that I am going to utilize one of them, for the plot. But still, please contribute your thoughts! Plots can be manipulated into any way I want them to, so please, I would love to give you a shout out in here too! All you gotta do is give me an idea, and how about this, even if I won't use that plot, you still get the shout-out? Fun? Good. **

**Though the plot won't be making its appearence until a little later. We gotta have a little bit of good times, right?**

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"Did you find the bride?" Tus asked once Dastan gleefully walked back into the tent, not surprised at all to see Garsiv still dutifully cleaning his sword. Tus had moved to lay on the couch, his limbs sprawled out helplessly on the pitiful piece of furniture.

Dastan walked to a small bench and plopped down, kicking the sand and enjoying the huff of grains the ground would give him every time. "Indeed, I did, brother. She was right where I expected her to be," he said idly, still kicking the sand happily.

"Well, where is she?" Garsiv asked haughtily. "Did you scare her away with your prowl, Lion of Perisa?" he continued, giving a little chuckle at the end of his own joke.

The youngest prince simply rolled his eyes. "I brought her back to her palace, Garsiv. She probably wouldn't want to meet Persian bureaucrats as aromatic as yourselves. You haven't cleansed yourself in what, Garsiv, two weeks?" he teased.

"I have washed often enough to be considered clean. I just came from battle, what do you expect from me? To smell like little flowers? Forgive me, but I pride myself on being a little more manly than that, Dastan," Garsiv retorted, making Dastan laugh.

"A man with a many wives as yourself, in my opinion, brother, is not very manly at all. But rather degrading," Dastan replied with a shrug.

"Degrading?" Garsiv asked incredulously. "How do you figure?"

"A woman should not have to be compared to the others in marriage. She should feel as if she is the only thing that matters in the world whenever you are near. Like she is your moon and your sun and your stars. Not like another weapon in an armory," Dastan reasoned. He stood up and walked to the buffet table held for the princes, taking an apple and polishing it with a napkin before sinking his teeth into it calmly with the perfect satisfying crunch that he always looked for in an apple. He looked down at the apple thoughtfully, smiling at it as the juices dribbled down his chin, sticking into his scruffy beard. When he turned back to look at his brothers, both were staring at him wide-eyed as if he had sprouted another limb. Briefly, he checked his body as inconspicuously as he could to see that that was thankfully not the case. "What?" he asked when his brothers had not broken their astounded stare.

"Like a moon?" Garsiv questioned dubiously.

"And a sun?" Tus continued, his eyes squinting in pure disbelief.

Dastan nodded calmly, surprised his brothers were acting as they were. "And your stars," he finished. "Women need to be treated with love; they deserve happiness as well, and being constantly compared to by other women in her own family is simply not right. We should not treat them as if they were meaningless and something to just be bought at a store," he ended, taking another bite out of his apple and returning to sit on his little bench.

"Dastan, where is this coming from? And what are you even suggesting?" Tus asked curiously, coming to sit next to his brother and wrap an arm around his shoulders.

The youngest brother looked at Tus simply. "I intend to only take one wife. And quite honestly, I have been feeling such things for a long while now. I look at your wives, Tus, and they are not happy. Kasha simply wanders about and looks sullen all of the time. She knows that she is not cared for by you. You only pay attention to Manela, and even she is aware that you don't love her. You go to her for advice, and then you leave her with perhaps, if you're happy, a kiss on the cheek. And Garsiv, Jenis is completely ignored in your group of wives; all she wants is a little affection. You have starved her from all sorts of love. The last ounce of care you even displayed in her regard was the night of your wedding to her. I intend to have Tamina be the only one I shall ever marry. She deserves respect and love," Dastan told them unashamed. He had waited for the right opportunity to tell his brothers such things for a long while now.

"Why would you care about how I treat my wives?" Garsiv interrogated, his light-hearted joy gone from his eyes and replaced by something a little more severe, though it did not taunt Dastan. "They don't belong to you."

Dastan shook his head vigorously. "And they don't belong to you either, Garsiv. They are people-not objects for one's pleasure. They cannot be owned. Even Father is aware that people cannot be treated in such a manner. All of the servants in Nasaf work there simply because they wish to, and he pays them generously and even gives them a place to live in the palace due to their services, their families as well. And though he does have more than just one spouse, he does treat them all specially, and we all know that."

"They aren't your wives then," Garsiv retorted smoothly.

"Garsiv, I am the one who comforts them when you reject them." Garsiv opened his mouth to protest. "No, that does not mean that I sleep with them, how could I? They all are very loyal, and they would not want to anyway, even if I were to suggest such an outrageous thing like that."

"I treat my wives quite well, Dastan," Garsiv said hotly. "They live a life of luxury in a palace and are married to a prince, and live the life of a Princess. How are they not treated well?"

Dastan shook his head in a defeated manner. "Oh, brother. There are many things that you have yet to learn of women and their ways. Perhaps, if you focused on them a little more, you would come to see that they are not so different from us men. They have ambitions and thoughts that should be considered at times. And they deserve love and all that that entails. But pay no more heed to the manner. It does not matter now."

Tus still looked thoughtfully at Dastan. "But to only have one wife, Dastan? How would you be able to lead such a life? I would think it wise if you were to wait until you are fully exposed to your relationship with the Princess in Alamut before you profess such silly things."

"I know Tamina, Tus."

"How? How do you know her?"

"It is a connection that you, brother, simply would not begin to comprehend," Dastan explained poorly.

"Dastan, Tus and I haven't even met her!" Garsiv exclaimed, throwing his hand out to the side. "How can you proclaim that you know her as well as you say you do when you yourself could not have met her before today?"

Dastan looked at his brother in a pleading way before he finally sighed. "I am so sorry, but I...I just can't...There is a rational explanation for all that has happened, including everything with Nizam, it's just that...I can't talk about it right now. It would take much to long for something so depressing and dreary. Can we not celebrate our victory here and move forward with no worries plaguing our minds? At least for today? I swear to you both that I will one day tell you everything, but now, let us not focus on these petty details." Dastan grabbed both of his brothers' shoulder tenderly and looked them both in the eye before smiling gaily at the two of them who still looked doubtful. "I swear to you both that you will know all that there is to know all in good time. There is too much that I would simply be unable to keep from the two of you. But I can keep those thoughts tucked away for latter purposes, and I am afraid that you shall have to make do with that offer. Now!" he said more cheerfully, pushing the event behind him. "Now, we can go into the palace, correct? Seeing as the Princess has been dutifully retunred to her post inside the walls of her palace. Now, let's go!" he exclaimed, and before he could wait any longer, he dragged his brothers out of the shaded tent and to the castle.

"But Dastan, you need a gift for her!" Tus yelled over to him.

Dastan shook his head while running, smiling at his brother over his shoulder. "I already gave her one!"

"Do you mean to tell me that you have already proposed to the Princess without the presence of your brothers?" Garsiv asked playfully, the brothers slowing to a walk, but a fast paced one nonetheless.

Dastan nodded easily. "Indeed," he said carelessly.

"And her response it would appear to be satisfactory?" Tus guessed, gesturing to the happy demeanor of the youngest prince of Persia who nodded excitedly in answer.

"I'm quite surprised that a woman of such a high stature - a Princess! would agree to marry you," Garsiv teased, getting a jab in his gut.

"For your small library of information, Garsiv, she accepted the invitation quite gladly." Dastan smirked smugly.

"A proposal is not an invitation, Dastan. Surely all of your opinionated thoughts of women would allow you to infer that much of thier insufferable breed," Garsiv continued, getting yet another jab in his stomach.

"Their breed is less insufferable than yours though, brother. It is possible that you have any female in you?" Dastan eyed his brother up and down, getting his own jab, along with a slap in the back of the head.

"Enough of your rambling!" Tus said after a while, trying his best to withold his laughter. Truly, his brothers were the most entertaining to watch, but it had always been a difficult job-being the big brother. He was supposed to keep his baby brothers in check, and stop them once their verbal jousts got too much for him to bear. But there were times when he would enjoy simply sitting near them and listening to thier endless retorts and witful responses.

"Yes, baby brother, enough with your chatter!" Garsiv teased, ruffling Dastan's hair, Dastan returning the ruffle with a glare.

"Have you ever heard that it is unwise to ruffle a Lion's mane?"

"How humble is my brother!" Garsiv exclaimed.

"Garsiv..." Tus warned as they approached the palace. He eyed the guards warily, staring them both in the eyes as they passed them. The guards did not look happy to allow them to pass, however they permitted them nevertheless, considering it was now the Princess' order that the Persian royals be given entrance to her palace. "We don't need you making our first impression. If the Princess has already agreed to marry Dastan, perhaps we should simply follow on the first impression that Dastan gave her, so as to not upset her."

Dastan shrugged, nodding politely at the guards. "Tus, there will be nothing that you will be able to do to keep her from getting upset with you. She is easily angered and does have quite a temper, so as long as you smile, I think that you should be alright. But you may get lucky, if the gods see fit," he reasoned with himself, leading the way through the palace, already knowing where she would be.

They arrived at the High Temple moments later, Tus and Garsiv looking around the hallways with awe.

As Dastan looked around as well, he was really quite astonished with how gorgeous everything truly was. During his adventure with his bride (how splendid it felt to think such a thing!), he was never given the chance to admire the palace that Tamina had grown up in.

Compared to Persia's style, the first obvious difference was definitely the colors. Persia was dark and commanding, its colors the proud blood red and the menacing black, all meshed together on thie rflag and in their artwork.

Alamut was different. The people were more cheerful in the streets, it seemed even. They had soft and gentle colors, like light green and blues and soft tans. It was all a very warm place, and the palace explicitly displayed the advanced style of Alamut. Simple paintings of intricate designs decorated the stone walls in almost a lazy manner, and beautiful, tall plants stood proudly in every corner, thier leaves green and strong.

And to think that Dastan was going to be living here for the rest of his life!

Persia's artwork borderlined agressive tendencies, their drawings on their wallsdepicting their victorious history of conquering all of thier enemies single-handedly and all of the like. In corners, instead of little trees or other assorted plants, their would still stand a tall vase, however, inside of its dusty shell would stand weapons of expert craftsmenship, though some had never even been used.

It was all a very different world to the brothers, and now that they had been exposed to such beauty that they had never even known existed, they were unsure of the design of their home in Nasaf. Perhaps a plant or two would not be such a terrible notion.

They stood in front of the door, though all three had forgotten what they were doing, and were still admiring the walls around them with devouring eyes.

They didn't notice at all once the door was opened soundlessly, and a young Princess stood in cracked doorway, watching the three men, amused. She crossed her arms over her chest and simply waited until they were done admiring the scenery.

She saw Garsiv, and remembered her first impression of him. He was the middle brother, she knew. He was the one always ready to defend the land and people that he loved. Hot-headed, like Dastan, she supposed, and he was unlikely to trust easily, which was a wise trait to have. Choosing enemies was quite simple, however choosing friends needed tender care and thought.

She observed Tus next, his hands wrapped around his prayer beads. He was the kind of man who was more caring and thoughtful, always having something intelligent to say. He was always looking for the advice and guidance of the King, Dastan had told her once. He would open his mind to everything around him, and then try to decipher everything he had seen and put it together into an explanation that would be suitable for his conscience.

And then there was her Dastan. The man she had grown to love in so short of a time, it almost seemed for a moment, that it had not happened at all. But she knew better. She knew better than almost anyone else did. She understood the compexity of the relationship that she shared with Dastan, and she knew that they were destined to be with one another, in all lives.

He was so strong, and so caring. He always knew the right thing to say when it came to her. He was always fully capable of soothing her troubled thoughts and always having a logical explanation for something. He was like Tus, in a way. He still thought deeply about things that were complex and thought-provoking. But he still held the capability to be spontaneous and fun. Being at his side, she had learned so many things about herself. She knew that it was alright for her to want to feel important and to want to be loved by another. She had learned that there were more things to living life than simply watching over a dagger and staying close to the destiny she had been given. It was alright for her to have an adventure, and it was alright for her to let go of her proper role sometimes and just be the woman she wanted to be. With Dastan, she could be anyone she wanted to be, and he would always be right there next to her, encouraging her and her playful side, always saying that she had as much right to happiness as all of the other people in world did, and just because she had a sacred dagger in her possession, it did not mean that she had to give up living a normal life. But living as a Princess was not necessarily normal, but she understood what he had been saying.

She smiled at the three brothers, who had miracuously still hadn't taken any notice to her in the doorway. "See something you like, Princes?" she teased, quoting herself from the time she had shared with Dastan.

All three brothers looked down at the Princess, and Dastan smiled widely when he heard her say those simple words.

Tus and Garsiv both gasped in awe of Tamina's beauty, their dark eyes going rather wide, though she did not take any notice, she was far too buried in Dastan's to care, which made him smile all the more at her. His grin was infectious, she thought, as she felt the corners of her lips pull up even further.

"Yes, I most definitely do, Princess," he replied generously, making her heart skip a beat. Even after proclaiming their love for one another, there were still things that he would be able to do to simply drive her mad. He reached out for her hand whic she took without thought, sighing in pleasure when his lips grazed her knuckles gently, his eyes never leaving hers.

Tamina shook her head quickly, coming back to the real world. She looked over Dastan's shoulders to see his brothers staring absolutely shocked behind him. "Prince, I believe that it would be a rather swell idea for you to intoduce me to your brothers. They seem stricken," she teased, regrettfully pulling her hand away from his and moving to stand in front of the two brothers who looked like they still hadn't blinked.

Her prince laughed happily and stood behind her, resting his large, warm hands on her shoulders, resting his mouth next to her ear, which made her feel rather grateful that she had already known who the two brothers were, for she surely would not have been able to pay attention to anything that Dastan would be saying, regardless of how close his voice would be to her ear.

"Princess Tamina, to the left is my thick-headed brother, Garsiv, and on the right is Persia's heir, Tus, though his ego on that situation is already large enough, so don't talk about it," he teased, making his brother frown in disapproval.

Tus walked forward in a gentleman like manner. "Your Highness, I apologize for the behavior of my brother. He is unaware that he is related to an ass, but don't tell him."

"Brother, I am the Lion of Persia, not the Ass of Persia," Dastan responded, rolling his eyes.

"Believe me, Dastan there is not much difference," Garsiv said gallantly as he walked to the Princess, bowing his head politely while she returned the gesture. "As he said, I am Garsiv, and I am the best brother-"

"Maybe I got mixed up with the egos," Dastan pondered.

Tamina chuckled at the brothers' antics.

"Welcome to the family," Tus greeted, kissing her hand nicely, Garsiv doing the same and being swatted away after a moment by Dastan.

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_What a wonderful family to be welcomed in to._

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**Hello again! Yes, I know that it is not Saturday, but actually 1:30 in the morning on Sunday. No, I am not going to update early to compensate, because frankly, school is important too, although I would love to discharge all of those terrible things. **

**The while woman speech that Dastan gave was kinda inspired by a friend tha I was talking to on here. So if you want to blame anyone for the whole thing, blame Bella. :P**

**Nothingfeelsgood, remember to review and tell me what you'd like for your one-shot so I can get that up. :)**

**Go ahead and click that button down there. Yes, the "Review this Chapter" button. It's my favorite. :)**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	3. A Heated Conversation

**Hey, everyone! What's up? Wow! 17 reviews so far on this story! Wow! You guys! I don't care what anyone says, you are the best reviewers EVER! And I will eternally love you. Hehe. **

**Again, the plot hasn't fully kicked off, so go ahead and give a little suggestion, even if it's a tiny one, even if it doesn't have to do with the plot. And you will get a shout out! And...even more eternal love...hehe...**

**Nothingfeelsgood, after you read this chapter, go ahead and send in a review telling me what you would like to see in a one-shot. What you want to happen. Do you want it to be a post-movie thing where Tamina doesn't remember everything? Do you want to see them break up? (please say no to this...hee hee) If you could write a one-shot, what would you want it to be about? And I will write it for you and dedicate it to you in the AN before and after the one-shot. Just remember, I do not write M rated pieces. But anything else. If you want it to be a Garsiv/OC thing, I don't care. You pick, and I write for you. :) It's a pretty fun process, and the last time I did it, everyone seemed to like it, plus it gives me a chance to step away from plots and such and have a bit of fun. :)**

**Now, onto the story!**

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The King walked through the marble doors of Alamut's palace, his brain trying its best to comprehend everything that had happened. All he had done was leave Tus and his other sons with his brother, telling them to subdue Koshkan, and now, they had invaded Alamut, as he had soon found out.

A young woman walked out of a room in front of him, carrying assorted garments in a basket to be washed.

"Miss?" he called gently, and the young woman turned around to look at him, her gaze surprised by the title that she had been given, however, once she saw who he was, her eyes turned to little slits, and she walked away angrily, the stomps of her sandles hitting the stone floor in small echoes. He turned back to his soldiers behind him, who looked ready to march right after the woman, though he raised his hand and smiled. "It is not her fault for being angry. She has every right to be. Tus was not supposed to invade Alamut, and now he is going suffer the anger of the people he has hurt."

He continued walking through the mangled hallways, quite astounded by the design. Alamut truly was a place of beauty; he had never seen a place like this before.

Just ahead, another door opened, and a happy Dastan walked triumphantly out, soon to be followed by a beautiful woman. He smiled down at her and took her hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it.

Dastan looked up from his beloved's hand and was met with the intrigued gaze of his father.

"Father!" Dastan quickly exclaimed, Tamina releasing his hand kindly so that Dastan could go to his father, embracing him tightly. It was hard to believe that it had only been a few days in the alternate world that he had spent, but the sight of his father falling and dying had been enough for Dastan and his already plagued memories.

Even though he knew that everything was over now, and his brothers were alive, his father was alive, Tamina was alive, there would be no herb that he would ever be able to take to relieve him of those wretched memories. He wished for a moment that he would have forgotten everything, just so that he would be able to live through the rest of his life with that painful heartbreak.

But he knew that that would not do either. Nizam would have gotten what he wanted, and Dastan would be right back where he started. He was grateful for that time. He had saved the world and his family, and he had developed a relationship with one of the most wonderful women. He had fallen in love.

"Dastan!" Sharaman exclaimed happily, patting his youngest son of the back, grateful to see him.

"We missed you, Father," Dastan said, still not pulling away, just trying to relax in the thought that his father was not going to die, that everything was going to be okay.

The short king laughed. "Dastan, I saw you only a fortnight ago!"

"It seems like a lifetime to me," Dastan admitted.

Sharaman smiled thoughtfully at his son. "I appreciate that, my boy. Now, come! Who is the young maiden on your arm?" he said, gesturing to Tamina at last who had stood off a little from the father and son, admiring the scene with gentle eyes.

She blushed slightly, though quickly covered it up and walked to Dastan and took his outstretched hand, feeling instantly calm.

"Father, this is the Princess of Alamut, Tamina. She and I are to wed," Dastan explained calmly, though she could tell that he was simply brimming with joy and excitement. She was as well.

"Are you now?" his father asked surprised. "What a jewel shall be waiting in your chambers, Dastan," he teased behind an emotionless face, which made Tamina slightly anxious.

The prince rolled his blue eyes. "Father, please. Some respect, I believe would be in order."

"Indeed, seeing as you owe her more respect than she owes you because you invaded her city. I have heard too that it was you who led the attack into Alamut," Sharaman observed, looking at his son through the tops of his eyes.

Tamina smiled thoughtfully and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Your Majesty, this is true. However, I am told that your son was simply following orders from his brother and uncle."

Sharaman turned his gaze towards Tamina, looking at her suspiciously. "You seem far too calm about such a matter. It is also my understanding, Your Highness, that the attack was needless. Should you not be furious with what has been done to your city?" he questioned.

The Princess looked at him steadily. "I fully understand that the attack was needless, far better than everyone," she said somewhat bitterly. She knew that Dastan cared very much for his father, however, for the king to insinuate that she was completely joyous with the fact that her city was nearly destroyed was a bit far. She no longer held anger for Dastan, and even though through the long unnecessary process she had found love, she was still troubled with the fact that this had to happen at all. She cared very much for her people, and to see any of them harmed caused her anguish. "However, I also learned recently that the brothers understand how terrible the act they committed was. I have no doubt that Alamut will be able to come back as strong as it had been before this tragedy," she ended, looking away from the king and trying to keep her anger in check.

The king seemed amused by the Princess' reaction, as his eyebrows raised. "And how do you feel, Princess, about marrying my son here?" he asked, making the breath in both of the lovers' throats catch. Dastan paled slightly, worried with how she was going to respond. He knew that she would not say anything too revealing about their relationship status, but it was still something to be nervous about.

Tamina bit her bottom lip for a moment, still avoiding the king's gaze as she tried to come up with a proper answer. She sighed after a moment, deciding that she would do the thing that needed to be done, and Dastan was simply going to have to know that she would mean nothing by it. Determined, she looked into the eyes of the king who was waiting for her reaction. "I find it disturbing. I know that this is to be expected from such an occurrence, however, it still makes me nervous."

"This woman is going to be the death of me, Father, I swear it," Dastan said, playing along with her, nodding his head in her direction.

"Then give her to Tus or Garsiv," Sharaman resolved, shrugging. "They, surely, would love to have such an addition if you are not willing to have her."

Dastan looked uneasily at Tamina, who was also looking slightly concerned. Finally, Dastan stared at his father again. "They don't want her. They say that she is too powerful for them, and they don't want to designate certain time to make sure she is not causing any mischief. She is my responsibility, Father. I will simply have to learn how to deal with her." As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew that it was going to cause problems later.

He had already told his brothers that all he wanted to do was marry Tamina, and now he was telling his father that it was going to be hard for him to keep such a wife. The stories conflicted with one another, forcing Dastan to come to the realization that he was going to have to tell his family about everything sooner, rather than later.

He didn't know how he felt about that exactly, however he knew that he was not exactly thrilled with it. He only hoped that he would be able to keep everything a secret for the time being. He didn't want to have to deal with it all now.

Tamina looked at Dastan, knowing that the wheels in his head were turning just as fast as hers, and she knew that he knew that he was going to have to give an account on everything that had happened between them in their other world and adventure. Including everything about Nizam.

And now, Nizam was dead. What did that mean? Did Sharaman know of his brother's death? Did he have any idea the plans that his own brother had planned to execute? Of course not, but that only made it all the harder to find a way to tell the king about everything. She bit her lip unsurely, already knowing that eventually, there were going to be teeth marks left there for all her uneasiness. She had never felt so nervous.

"They do not want you?" Sharaman asked, surprised, looking at the Princess with shock written all over his wrinkled face. "Why would they not want such a beautiful woman as their wife?"

Tamina looked down. "I appreciate the kindness you bestow upon me, Your Majesty, however, I understand why Their Majesties feel the way they do. Marrying is a commitment that some are simply not willing to make."

"My lady, you misunderstand the situation entirely," the king continued. "Tus and Garsiv would never shy away from marriage. They both already have plentiful wives, and one more would certainly not scare them into oblivion."

"They wanted me to have my first wife, as well, Father. Seeing as I have yet to marry, they wanted me to finally share the joys of marriage. You understand, Father, don't you?" Dastan asked sweetly, begging for the interrogation to be done. He did not know how much longer he would be able to produce such lies, let alone how much time he would have after them to figure out a way to explain everything better.

"I do not. However, I trust your judgment, Dastan. Now, where is Nizam? I wish to consult with him," the king asked, already beginning to look around him, as if his brother would come out from behind a wall at any moment.

Both of them looked away, catching the attention of the king immediately. "What? What is it?" Neither of them answered. "You know something. What is it, Dastan?"

"Father, you won't be seeing Nizam...any more..."

Sharaman looked confused. "And why is that?"

Dastan blew out air, looking to the ceiling, asking for the gods' help, though he knew that all they would be doing would be laughing at his misery. "He...he's dead, Father," Dastan said uneasily.

When he didn't hear any sort of response, he looked down at his father and saw something that he did not expect to see. His father looked at him, his eyes watering slightly, though there seemed to be...a peace buried in his eyes somewhere. "He died in battle? Always the way he wanted to die. He must be happy that his wish was granted."

"Your Majesty, you don't understand," Tamina said softly, reaching out to hold the king's trembling hand. "He did not die in battle. Your son, Tus," She looked at Dastan nervously before continuing, "he killed him."

Sharaman's eyes widened in alarm and he tore his hand away from Tamina, catching her by surprise. "What? Why would he do such a thing?"

"Father, please. Perhaps we should talk about this later after we all regain our wits about ourselves. Please, do know that you are going to be informed of everything. There is too much to tell for this hall. Let us wait until dinner for everything to be properly told." Dastan sighed before mumbling, "It is quite a story, and it should be heard. Not even Tus and Garsiv know the entire story, Father."

"And you do?" Sharaman asked, annoyed, still trying to understand that his younger brother was dead. The boy who had saved his life and had always been there for him. His brother! Gone! Gone without a goodbye. Just...gone...

Dastan nodded carefully. "Yes, I do." He looked at his father thoughtfully, grabbing the forearms of his father and staring calmly at him. "As does Tamina," he said after a pause, making his father look back up at him curiously.

"And how would she know anything?"

"I know a lot more than you would think I would, Your Majesty. Please, do not be alarmed -"

"How can I not be? My brother is dead, and my son and his future wife come to me, telling me that they know exactly what had happened and why. How can I not be alarmed?" the king said harshly, making Tamina jump back.

"Father, she is not to blame. Do not yell at her," Dastan said quietly.

"How is it that this woman knows things that I do not? I do not yell at her; I contradict her and her thoughts of calm. How can she be calm? How can you be calm? Your brother killed your uncle!" Sharaman exclaimed, tearing his arms from his son's hands. "Unless, you too, had something to do with his death. Did you?"

"Father, please, you know that I would never want to put any shame on this family. I have done nothing that has not been needed to be done. Everything that has been done, has been needed. Do not so readily place the blame on me," he said a tad too harshly.

"Why wouldn't I place the blame on you? My own sons killed my brother? What have you all done? Who has possessed my sons to do such a wretched deed?" he yelled in response, making Dastan's heart ache. He had not wanted to cause a conflict like this.

"Sire, please, you must understand that there is much to tell," Tamina said calmly, coming to the king and resting her hands on his arms kindly. "And we intend to tell you everything. Without leaving out a single detail. But you must be patient. Please? Your son has waited so long to see all of this brought to an end, and with you chastising him the way you do, it hurts him. Can you not see the pain you have caused him? He wants to tell you so much, but you have to be willing to listen. Are you willing to listen to waht he has to say?" she asked, looking into his brown eyes, watching as they softened before they looked old and weary.

He nodded after a moment and a sigh, bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I am so tired. I am sorry, Dastan for jumping to the conclusions that I did. I am sure that you have an explanation for all that has happened today, and I look forward to hearing this story, from start to finish in all of its grandeur. But now, I do need to rest; the journey was rather long, and there has been far too much to take in for one afternoon. I look forward to tonight where I will be able to hear the rest of this tale, but you must excuse me for the time being. There is much to ponder over," he heaved. And without anything else, he turned around and began walking back the way he had come, his guards following him loyally like dogs.

Tamina turned back to Dastan, who looked rather melancholy. "Dastan?" He looked up at her, giving her a small smile.

"He had wondered whether I was to blame," he mused, looking at the ground, his blue eyes drooping.

Tamina walked over to Dastan and grabbed his chin forcefully, making him look at her. "You listen to me, Dastan. You need to know that he did not know what he was talking about. He does not know of anything that had happened; he does not know what you have done for all of mankind; he does not know what his own brother had had in store for him. He does not know the story. Wait until he does; you will see. He will forgive you. You will see," she said forcefully, waiting for his eyes to change into a smile. They didn't.

Dastan looked at her, her words making perfect sense, but the logic behind all of it as well, making perfect sense. "Tamina, you don't understand. It wouldn't matter how remorseful he is going to be after we tell him everything that had happened. The fact of the matter is that he suspected that I too, had done something to cause the death of Nizam. He thought that I had killed Nizam out of cold-blood."

"He thought all of you had, Dastan. Not just you," Tamina interrupted.

He only shrugged at her answer. "It does not matter. To think that my own father would think that I would do such a thing though. And not just me, but both of my brothers. He thought we were murderers."

Tamina shook her head, beginning to get worried. "He was overwhelmed, Dastan. He had just learned that his brother was killed, and that his sons had invaded Alamut. And he was tired. Your father is not young enough for his thoughts and muscles to be as resilient as yours. Give him time."

Dastan looked at her softly, reaching up to brush a piece of hair away from her face, smiling slightly. "Perhaps you are right."

She smiled in a teasing manner. "Dastan, I am always right. Now, come along. We need to think of a way to tell your family about everything that has happened."

And with that, she grabbed his hand and tugged him along, Dastan happily following her.

* * *

**Oh, gosh, guys, I am soooo sorry! I know, this is kinda a late update. I apologize, and I can only hope that you guys forgive me for this. **

**But let me explain? Last night, I was trying my best to write this chapter, and I just couldn't get it. It was a bad case of writer's block, and even though I knew that I would still be able to update that night, I knew that it was not going to be a very good chapter, and you guys weren't going to like it a whole bunch. So, I decided that I would wait until today to write it, when hopefully, my writing skills would be back, and luckily there are here! Yay! **

**However, that first part, I am really worried about, cause it was about there were I was totally dead when it came to ideas. **

**Anyway, please review, even if you wanna tell me that you are pissed my late update, or if you wanna tell me that this chapter sucked, I don't care. I won't take it to heart. I just wanna hear what you guys think. But if you are going to say this chapter sucked, please tell me why so that I don't repeat such a terrible thing in future chapters. **

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	4. Of Gardens and Pigs

**Hello everyone! Well, it is Saturday, and you know what that means...update time! **

**Now, you know how much I love you guys...please return the love and review. Six reviews? I love all the reviews that I get, but I know that you guys can do better than that. Here I am, seeing one chapter get 17 reviews by itself (this was Persian Empire, not this one) And then...six. It's not that I am disappointed with the number, no I am quite happy with it, but I know that we can do better. I update every Saturday for you guys, the readers. Please, please, please give me a review to read. They really make me the happiest person in the world, and a happy author is a good author. **

**Nothingfeelsgood, alright! That sounds like a really good one-shot - I haven't seen ones like that either, and that would be pretty fun to do. I will try to update today, but please don't get mad at me if I don't post it until tomorrow. And if I don't post it tonight, it will without a doubt, be tomorrow. **

**I know, last chapter kinda sucked as far as romance goes, but no worries! This chapter is more romantic than the last one, though this story can't be all fluff. I have plans for these guys. *rubs hands together evilly* Mwhahahaha! Now...onto the story.**

* * *

Tamina pulled him along through the halls, Dastan dutifully following her. He had no idea where they were going, but it looked like the Princess had her own plans, and he would not be the one to deter her from her course.

They walked for a while longer, Dastan observing the palace a little more, completely in awe with the fact that this place, this palace really, was going to be the place he would live in for the rest of his life. And he would not be living in it alone. He would have Tamina with him through every second of it all.

Eventually, Tamina slowled her walk, going through a small tunnel and stopping before a tall, wooden door. It was a lovely wood, rich in color, and looking rather dense in thickness. She reached out with her small hand and grasped the handle lightly, pushing the door in, leaving a garden gleaming proudly at them from the other side.

Beautiful green trees stood tall and proud in the garden, their long and full leaves shading practically the entire sanctuary, leaving little room for sunlight to slip through the crevices. At the bases of the majestic trees, there would be smaller plants - little shrubs, really - sitting comfortably around the trunk, hugging the bark with small, lighter green leaves. Other planters had flowers of various colors in them with the flowers holding close to flowers like themselves, almost as if they were looking down at all of the different flowers surrounding them in their beds. There were clashes of reds and purples, yellows and whites, even roses of oranges and pinks. Behind the planters, up against the west side of the room, there was an even taller waterfall, the rocks leading up to the pinnacle of the fall large and gray and step-like. Smaller rocks formed a pond around the water below, flat rocks, the shined slightly with the splashed water on them. The waterfall itself was beautiful too, not too loud but certainly audible. It trickled gently over the rocks on its way down, sprinkling into the deep pond below. Little lily-pads graced the surface of the cool water, frogs even croaking happily on them. As they neared the rim of the pool, Dastan could see shimmers of gold in the water, little orange fish swimming about in excited circles. The pool was indeed rather deep, easily up to the prince's neck should he choose to stand in it, he mused. Swaying plants of green waved lazily at him below the surface, dancing to the music the water and frogs quietly made. Other rocks dwindled down at the bottom too, sparkling whenever the sun would push away the leaves of the trees to glance down upon the rocks and plants there.

The pond stoof about waist high, the wall around the water being firm in its stand, with stones of strength and resolution surrounding it and a gray mold keeping water from flowing out of it.

Dastan reached down slowly and relaxed, his fingers dipping into the pool and barely causing any ripples. It was cool and fresh, having an almost holy feel. The water seeped into the calloused skin of his fingers, his apendages drinking in the water thirstily, becoming softer and softer the longer he let his fingers dwell in it.

When he pulled his hand out of the water, his fingers were glowing and shimmering with the water still clinging to his hand. He studied his hand, feeling something strange. It was as if the pool rejuvenated his skin, making it feel young and priceless.

"I told you that we were famed for the water here," Tamina said softly, dipping her own hand into the water and rubbing her fingers together underneath the surface.

Dastan nodded excitedly, bending his fingers. "It's as if my hand was reborn," he said in wonder. Tamina looked away from the water and at his hand.

She nodded before looking back at the water, moving her arm back and forth, making little waves in the water. "Our water, here in Alamut, is the cleanest water in the world. We only drink the purest of water here. This particular pond is the well of the city." He looked curiously at her. "The groundwork all connects to this pond. This is the pond that serves all of Alamut's people."

"Surely though you must run out of water somtime," Dastan wondered.

Tamina smiled thoughtfully. "We have come close to doing just that, however, it never happens. This pond is also connected to a water hole somewhere outside of Alamut."

"How is it so clean though?" he asked.

"The outer pond we get our water from is clean naturally. We don't know why, but it simply is," she replied, shurgging slightly.

Dastan frowned. "Well then how is it brought to the palace?"

Tamina looked at him. "It is an underwater current that brings it here. We centered the palace over this point. The waterfall would not be able to be anywhere else," she said simply. "No, the physical waterfall did not come with it," she added right when Dastan opened his mouth. He closed it then, his question answered. "We decorated the area. It really is the perfect place for the garden too," she said, gesturing to said garden with a sweep of her unwetted arm. "The water from the pond goes to the plants here too."

"But they also need sunlight," Dastan mused. He pointed to the littler plants underneath the taller trees. "and it would appear that these plants rarely get sunlight."

Tamina sighed, retracting her hand. "You certainly do not lack in the field of curiosity." He merely looked at her, still waiting for the answer to his question. He wanted to know everything about this place. It was such a wonderful place. "When the sun starts to set and when it rises, this whole room is nothing but sunlight. It is this way for an hour, and the amount of sunlight that each plant receives in that time is more than enough time to soak it all in."

Dastan nodded, suddenly noticing the glass windows covering the entire walls. "It must get really warm in here," he noted, making Tamina laugh gently, her laugh combining with the sound of the waterfall perfectly.

"It can be. But in the mornings, it is beautiful to see the sun come up. Another time when the plants are graced with sunlight. They get just enough to be as beautiful as they are without over-growing or dying of heat."

Dastan sat down on the waterfall's rim. He reached out with his hands and grasped both of Tamina's. He stared deeply into her eyes, making her heart accelerate its beat slightly. He raised her hands to his lips, kissing both of them tenderly, his eyes never leaving hers. "You are so beautiful," he told her softly, resting their entwined hands in his lap.

Tamina smiled softly, looking away to try to hide the blush that she knew was presenting itself on her cheeks.

"This garden is too," he continued, still looking at her passionately; she could from her peripheral vision. "But I think that it only looks as beautiful as it does because you are gracing it with your presence. Without you, this garden would not be as beautiful. You make everything beautiful," he told her, making her heart melt.

The Princess looked back at him. "Would you have said that to me when we first met?" she asked him curiously, catching him slightly be surprise.

He smiled mischeivously. "I would have thought it, but I would not have said it," he told her calmly.

She arched her eyebrows at him. "And why is that, Prince Dastan?" she pressed.

He chuckled slightly before answering her fully. "I was trying to keep up the appearance that I was unaffected by your beauty. You already had an ego big enough for your beauty, and I didn't want to give you any more reason to think yourself beautiful. Plus, I didn't want you to think that I was in love with you. Because then, you would have only have tried to manipulate me all the more. Not that you didn't try in the first place, but if I told you once that you were beautiful, you would have manipulated me further," he explained. "Now, I can say what is on my mind without any reprecussions," he teased.

"I am not egotistical about my looks, Dastan," she told him, trying to keep her the smile out of her eyes.

"Yes you are. 'Eagerly leaping to assist the fallen beauty'. Does that ring a bell?" he asked cheekily.

"And I was quick to give you a reason," she countered.

"'There must be a reason you can't take your eyes off me', yes, Princess, I remember. But you were the one to talk of your beauty, not me."

Tamina smiled at him. "And then you told me that I wasn't your type."

Dastan grinned back. "Out of all the things to remember...At the time, it was true though."

"Oh? Because...?" she encouraged.

"Because I really didn't want to marry a woman who had the 'capability to voice her own thoughts'," he teased her. However, before she began to open her mouth for another retort, he silenced her, leaning up to press his lips gently to hers.

The kiss was short and sweet, and when he pulled away, he smiled triumphantly. "All there is to be aware of now, Princess, is that you are indeed my type, and I could not imagine leading a life without a different woman at my side. It would appear that the capabilty to voice one's thoughts would be something that I would look for in a woman."

Tamina smiled down at him, taking one of her hands away from his to stroke his cheek. "I suppose you weren't the Persian bastard I had thought you to be," she said smiling.

He chuckled again before leaning up once more to kiss her again, Tamina fully accepting the kiss and returning it with nothing but happiness. There would never be another man for her. Only Dastan.

When he pulled away, he smiled gallantly and stood up, Tamina's neck moving to look up into his blue eyes. They were such beautiful eyes. So fathomless and curious, but wary and alert constantly.

"I believe that dinner should be ready soon," he observed, looking in the western direction, his eyes meeting a setting sun. The garden was now almost completely illuminated, and though all he wanted was to stay and watch such a wondrous sunset, he had other things that needed attending to. "And I believe also," he continued, "that some explanations are going to be in order."

Tamina frowned, looking down at the tile beneath her slippered feet. "Dastan, how are we going to tell them? It is going to kill your father to hear the things that you had gone through."

"The things that _we _went through. You had your fair share of terrible doings happen to you. But don't worry. We will figure it out. My father is a very understanding man, and I know that Tus is going to listen carefully, and Garsiv is very easily persuaded. My brothers saw Nizam try to kill me. They will know that we are telling the truth," he explained, cupping her cheek. "Come, our family is waiting for us."

He pulled away, walking towards the door. Once he reached the door, he turned back to look at Tamina who was still deep in thought. They would figure it out. His family did seem to be a very understanding, inquisitive family, and they did not seem to be the type of people who would immediately judge. Though they certainly wasted no time when Dastan had been expected to have killed the king in the other life. She looked up at Dastan, worry still evident in her eyes.

But Dastan seemed to trust their judgment. And if he could trust thier judgment, she certainly had no reason to worry about the outcome.

With resolution and determination, she bravely walked forward to Dastan, who smiled upon her arrival to his side, and they left the garden, heading towards the dining room, where there would be many questions that would be asked and many answers that would be given in return.

* * *

The dining room was very quiet upon their entry. Sharaman sat at the head of the table, a golden wine goblet in his hand. The king's studies of the goblet were interrupted, as was obvious from the sudden movement of the king's eyes away from the piece of kitchenware and the adjustment of his eyes.

Tus had been sitting regally to the right of his father, his hands folded in front of him and resting on the table.

Garsiv sat to his brother's right, and was using a silver fork to pick something away from his teeth. Of course, he stopped the action immediately when his brother and his fiancee entered the room. He set down the fork and tried to mimick his brother's actions, though not looking nearly as regal as Tus as he did so.

Dastan and Tamina sat down noiselessly, the Princess automatically unfolding her napkin and resting it on her lap. Dastan cleared his throat uneasily, the silence intimidating him.

The rest of the people seated at the long, ornate table were the wives of Garsiv and Tus, all of them looking unsurely at Dastan and the woman who was assumed to be not only his beau, but the highest monarch of the palace they were currently situated in. Tus and Garsiv had been very quick to get their wives to the palace, apparently, Dastan thought with a small frown. He did not want to tell them anything with the wives there and in their presence as well.

"How was your day with your fiancee, Brother?" Garsiv teased, breaking the silence like whip cracking through the heavy air; he didn't even seemed at all troubled to do so though, but Dastan still felt queasy about everything. Now, all of the words of encouragement he had given Tamina vanished, leaving him just as unsure as she had been earlier.

"My lord," Tamina said calmly, looking into the middle prince's eyes. "I am also in your presence if you did not notice my entrance as well."

Garsiv looked absolutely apalled with what she had said, sitting back in his seat and looking dumbfounded. His wives all gasped slightly at the break in etiquette displayed to their husband. Tus smiled grandly, even chuckled slightly, while the king smirked.

"Do I amuse you, Prince Tus?" she asked then, making the heir to the throne cut off his laughter and wipe the smile off of his face. He bit his lip to hide his amusement of his brother's tongue lashing, though certainly not losing sight of the lashing he received quite quickly after Garsiv's.

"Indeed, my lady," Tus said after moment of silence, his wives now looking on the situation with distaste and annoyance at the lack of respect being displayed.

"How so?" Tamina asked calmly, though her eyebrows arched in question.

"Tis not an often occurrence to see my brother being treated in such a manner by anyone other than Dastan," Tus retorted calmly. "Garsiv is not often tested," he continued.

Dastan smirked now, taking Tamina's hand underneath the table and giving it a little squeeze. "Well, he is going to have to learn how to accept and get used to the fact that I am not going to be the only one testing his wit anymore," he said clearly, making the king laugh heartily.

"Well, perhaps the two of you are perfectly matched then, are you not?" the king asked before laughing once more.

"I think so," Dastan replied sweetly.

The king stopped his laughter and looked at the two of them curiously. "And now, I would think that we would get to the questions your brothers and I have to pose, and the answers that you have to return," he assumed, resting his goblet back down on the table.

"After dinner, Father," Dastan said effortlessly.

"Why not now?" Garsiv asked.

"Because I know that once the food arrives, Garsiv," Dastan said easily, "you will not be able to pay attention to anything other than what is on your plate."

Tamina and Tus both giggled, while Garsiv frowned.

"Brother, you know that what he says is true," Tus said after a moment.

"Fine, but after dinner," Garsiv huffed. However, his pouting behavior was soon ended when the chefs arrived to the dining hall, large trays in their arms. The platters were large and covered with a dome, hiding the food. Garsiv followed every tray he could with his eyes, watching the chefs rest the large, golden platters on the long table, bending over and simultaneously removing the domes, leaving nothing but breathtakingingly beautiful food in thier wake.

The chefs then retreated back into their kitchen, most likely to enjoy their small, uncelebrated meal until it would be time to get the dirtied plates and wash them.

True to Dastan's words, Garsiv immediately reached for all of the food that he could get his hands on, filling his plate completely. Food even began slipping off of the plate once his meal exceeded the height of four inches.

"Now, what did I tell you, Garsiv -" Dastan started.

"Yes, yes, I know, Dastan. You were right. I am a man who enjoys eating. Now, mind your own business and eat your food, and leave me in peace," Garsiv interrupted, never even looking at his brother. He picked up his fork again and stabbed into the concoction of beef, fruit, and potatoes. He shoved the fork into his mouth, sighing in content at the food.

Tamina stared at him, disgusted. It didn't even look like he chewed his food, only swallowing it whole, as noted by the large change in size of the prince's throat whenever he would swallow. He was like a pig with hands. She looked down the table at the other women there; none of them seemed to be surprised with the way Garsiv was eating. She briefly wondered how long it took for all of them to be desensitzed to the sight of the middle prince eating.

Dastan looked at her, and leaned over quickly to whisper in her ear, "Just don't look at him. That's what I do." He pulled away and began to slowly eat his food, chewing it thoroughly and fully.

She looked down at his plate, relaxing to see that her future husband was no where near the animal his brother was. His plate was organized, the tender meat resting in one third of the plate, only their juices spreading to the rest of the plate, though not entirely. The mashed potatoes where squared off in another area, plump and light with little specks of green chives peeking through. The fruit was also set aside, making his plate look immaculate.

Tus and the king seemed to be following suit of the youngest prince, both of their plates orderly and whatnot. And the longer she looked, she saw that none of them even made one little glance at Garsiv who was chewing horrendously and bending over his plate as if he had never eaten a day in his life. She smiled at all three of them, looking down at her own plate. She forked a slice of beef, laying it down on her plate, potatoes and fruit following.

After the meal, the chefs dutifully came back into the dining hall, removing their plates without a word. The man who took away Garsiv's plate, Tamina pitied. She watched as the chef carefully picked up the plate, as if it was a dead animal and held it away from his body, a grimace never leaving his face. He turned and walked as calmly as he could into the kitchen, though she could hear a faster pace of steps once the door closed behind him. Poor man.

"Now, we get to it," the king said, folding his hands and looking at his son who looked slightly worried again.

Tamina took his hand underneath the table like he had done before, mimicking his squeeze, and grateful to see his shoulders relax. "My lord," Tamina said kindly. "If I may so bold as to ask," she hurried, "but this topic is...a rather private matter, and I believe that I speak for Prince Dastan as well when I say that it may be best to speak of this without...so many ears listening as well." She looked to the wives, who were completely offended by the Princess's words.

"Why should she be able to hear what has to be said, and not us? Are we not as competent as her?" one wife asked angrily, and she saw Tus bury his face in one palm. This must be one of his wives.

Dastan growled quietly, Tamina only hearing it, she was sure. "The Princess of Alamut is priviledged to stay and participate in the conversation because, she too, is telling the story. She and I both are. Now, please be so generous," Dastan said slightly more harshly than was necessary, "and leave as the Princess requested. Thank you," he said curtly before turning back to the king and his brothers.

The wives stayed there for a moment, obviously unsure whether to do as they had been asked to, or stay and hear what they had also been dying to hear.

Finally Tus spoke up. "Leave us, ladies," he said tiredly, and slowly, the women left the room, leaving only five people occupying it. "Now will you not tell us this story?" he asked, turning to his brother.

Dastan took a deep breath and braced himself. What a story it is...

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**Alrighty there...So yeah, I know...you guys were probably expecting this chapter to have the explanations and stuff, and honestly, I was too. But this chapter kinda got away from me, but next chapter FOR SURE. Obviously told by the last two sentences there, right?**

**And please, please, please review. I know you guys don't like it when I beg; I don't like begging either. So let this be the last time I ever have to do so. **

**Nothingfeelsgood, expect your one-shot tomorrow. My fingers are DEAD. BEAT. I wish that I could write it, but I can't get through a single word without messing up the spelling even once. I know that is kinda hard to believe seeing as you aren't watching me type, but you're just gonna have to trust me.**

**So, I am pretty satisfied with this chapter. Now please tell me if you are too. :)**

**Love you all lots!**


	5. Care to Explain?

**Come now, guys...I don't even think that we got as many reviews as I did third one. I know that you guys can give me a little more. I get on here every Saturday and update because I love you guys, and I made a promise to do so. However, it really would be nice to see a few reviews show up for me. I'm not asking for twenty. I'm not even asking for fifteen. But maybe...ten? That would only be a couple shy of the regular, and it would make me even happier. Now, I know that you guys DESPISE it when I beg for reviews, so PLEASE let this be my last "plea". Please! I don't like begging either. **

**Alright, so I did do the oneshot, and for those who have yet to even hear of it, it is entitled "Welcome to the Family". Go ahead and check it out. It's kinda cute family fluff. :)**

**And now, onto the story! And yes, I won't prolong the explanations any further. Hehe...**

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The room was deafeningly quiet for a time, no one moving, only staring at the engaged couple who were avoiding their eyes, Tamina out of embarrassment, Dastan out anxiousness. He did not want to have to tell his family these dreadful things, but it needed to be done.

Tamina tentatively groped under the tablecloth for Dastan's hand, taking it gently into her palm and pulling it into her lap, giving it a firm squeeze of encouragement. He raised his head at her, smiling gratefully while she returned it kindly.

They stared at one another for a moment, the brothers and father somewhat confused as to what they were seeing, but they all came ot the strange conclusion that the two of them were...communicating. With their eyes. It was the most abnormal thing they had ever seen, but the two of them seemed so at ease with the other, piquing their curiosity more and more.

Finally, Dastan gave an almost invisible nod and turned to his family, looking into the eyes of his father first.

"There is a legend," he started uneasily, thinking his words very carefully. "that involves...gods different from our own. A story that spawned one of the most ancient and sought after weapons of all time."

Tamina pulled her hand away, digging into the belt at her side. Carefully, practically hesitantly, she withdrew the dagger and laid it gingerly on the table for the princes and king to see. She considered leaving her hands with it on the table, but soon retreated her hands back onto her lap.

Dastan reached over and took the dagger into his hands, twirling it musingly around.

"A dagger? That is the legendary weapon?" Garsiv scoffed. "It doesn't even look sharp."

The youngest prince looked at his brother carefully before responding. "It isn't," he said simply, leaving no room for doubt.

"Then what could this knife have that any other knife doesn't? Why is it that this insufficient knife is better than the others?" Garsiv pressed.

Dastan looked at Garsiv pleadingly. "Listen carefully. This dagger...isn't meant for war."

Garsiv and Tus chuckled, Tus responding in a jest, as if everything was a joke, "Then what is its purpose? To sit and be hailed all day?"

"Yes," Tamina replied shortly, rasing her head now to meet the eyes of Persia's future king. "That is its only purpose, though others seem to find other ways of using it, harmful, immoral, clever ways."

"I am afraid you have lost my understanding, Princess Tamina," King Sharaman said kindly. "What does it do?"

Tamina took a deep, shaky breath. She knew that she was going against everything by telling the king and his two sons about the dagger and its properties. She knew that it was entirely forbidden. There should be no reason at all why she should tell them - the men who invaded her city, the men who had killed her people mercilessly. But then, she looked at the king, meeting his warm, soothing eyes. Through those eyes, she saw trust and encouragement. She was not being _forced _to do anything. This was her choice. "This dagger...has a story. A long, long time ago, my gods looked down on the earth, and they saw only greed and cruelty. And they decided that they were going to destroy all of mankind for the evils they had done to one another. So, they created a sandstorm to destroy earth. However, there was one little girl who looked to the gods for forgiveness, even telling them that she would give her own life for those of the men who had killed and stole. The gods looked at her, and they saw the truth in her heart and the purity. So, the pulled back the Sands, and they swept them into something we in Alamut call the Sandglass. And from the wall of a mountain, this dagger came forth, given to the girl who had saved them. She became the first Guardian, or caretaker of the dagger," she explained, Dastan nodding at the appropriate times.

"So..." Garsiv started, looking at the dagger cynically. "you protect this dagger because of the story behind it?"

"Yes, but that is not all," Tamina replied quickly. Gently, she took the dagger from Dastan's hands. She pointed to the red jewel at the top, taking another deep and shaky breath before continuing. "This is not here for decoration, Your Majesties." She lifted the dagger perpendicular to the table, pointing at the sand inside. "Nor is this sand. The Sandglass, as I said is a container for the Sand the gods had sent to the earth for destruction. When the girl saved mankind, the Sands were pulled into it. The Sand in this dagger is that same Sand."

"And the jewel at the top?" Tus asked curiously.

"When one presses the jewel, it releases the Sand inside of the dagger," Tamina explained, again showing them all the jewel button at the top.

"And what does that do?" Garsiv questioned impatiently.

Dastan looked harshly at his brother, even though he knew that there was no reason to be so short with him. "It turns back time."

The chamber was quiet for another moment before the two unaware princes and king released the breath they did not know they were holding.

"Turns back time?" Sharaman asked suspiciously.

"And only the one who pressed the jewel button is aware of what had happened before he had pressed it," Dastan continued hurriedly.

Tamina smiled thoughtfully. "Until now," she said softly, looking at Dastan out of the corner of her eye, watching him smirk slightly as well.

"Until now," he repeated slightly louder.

"Come now, Dastan!" Garsiv exclaimed. "How can you expect us to believe such things? You sound insane! It cannot be possible! It is not possible!" Garsiv yelled, throwing his hands up into the air.

"Garsiv, it is perfectly possible. I saw it with my own eyes. I even have pressed this button and watched it happen myself," Dastan replied calmly.

"Son, sit down and let them finish their tale. I sense that it is not entirely over yet, correct?" Sharaman said with a slight twinkle in his brown eyes.

Tus grabbed his chin thoughtfully, threading his fingers through his unkempt beard. He leaned back in his chair, taking in all of the information he had been given. Soon, he came to the conclusion. He smiled up at Dastan and Tamina, things slightly clearer now than they had been. "This is an alternate universe, is it not? The two of you lived a different ending. That is why you know one another as well as you do. Because you were with one another in that other life." Dastan and Tamina nodded sheepishly at Tus who smiled further. "And I suppose it is that other universe that you lived through that makes things complicated. And I suppose as well, that it is what the rest of you tale entitles." The nodded again. "Then please continue." He leaned forward in his chair, looking at the two of them.

"Do you believe this?" Tamina asked Tus softly, her voice so quiet that Tus leaned in even further to catch it.

"I am trying to. It is a lot to believe, and I am afraid that I am going to need proof in the end if I want to be able to fully understand what it is for you to be saying to me. But please, I would like to hear what had happened in this other world, in this other...reality."

Dastan nodded. It was his turn now. "It had started at the very end of the battle here in Alamut."

"Why that was only a few hours ago," Garsiv observed. "That is a long..."

"Brother, please," Dastan said quickly. "This is already a hard enought story to tell without interruptions." He paused for a moment, Garsiv nodding in consent. "Tus, you and Garsiv had walked blantantly into the High Temple where Tamina had been praying..."

And so, Dastan exclaimed the entire story to them, leaving nothing out, expect perhaps the special moments between Tamina and himself. Those were for her and him to share, not the others.

Again, silence capitivated them all. Sharaman had gone pale long before the story's ending - just when he had come to the conclusion that Tus had been trying to kill him, then going even paler when he found out that it had been Nizam all along. The man who he had grown up with. The man who had saved his life when he was only a boy. Nizam had regretted saving him? Nizam had wanted him dead all along? How long had it been going on? His own brother had betrayed him and the rest of his family.

Tus stared at a folded napkin, his eyes blank and fathomless. He had really suspected that Dastan had killed their father? He supposed that how the death had happened, he would have suspected that Dastan would have been the murderer, but he should have done something to listen, not just let the events unfold how they had. Nizam had framed his brother, however at the same time, making Dastan believe that it had been Tus who had been the conniving and framing one, not the innocent uncle.

The middle prince had his mouth agape, staring at Dastan and Tamina, Tamina smiling sympathetically at Dastan, covering his large hand with her small one. Dastan looked breathless after the story, only looking at Tamina now sadly. Garsiv watched at Dsatan turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with his finacee's. Tamina caught the middle prince's stare and blushed, looking away nervously, but leaving her hand in Dastan's.

But Garsiv was not really thinking about the scene he was watching unfold with Tamina and Dastan in front of him. In the other world, he had been so quick to think that it had been Dastan who had killed their father. He had never even cared to listen when Dastan had supposedly turned up in Avrat for thier father's funeral. He had only cared about what he had seen, and did not care to think about the rest. And it had gotten him killed in the end. It had taken four poison blades in his chest for him to understand that his only little brother had been innocent after all. Why had the other Garsiv not have thought about it? Dastan loved their father just as much as Tus and he did. There been nothing but devotion in Dastan's eyes whenever he would look at his father, and so quickly had Garsiv been quick to judge everything that had happened. Never listening. Never bothering to listen. Always being stubborn. What would have happened if Garsiv had listened earlier? Would things have been different in this alternate world? Would he have been able to make any difference?

Of course he would have.

But he didn't.

He left Dastan to do it all on his own.

Garsiv cleared his throat, penetrating the deep silence that still held the chamber in its dark and clammy clutches. "Dastan..." Garsiv whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking in the back of his throat, making it sound like a wheeze. "I'm sorry."

Dastan smiled kindly. "Brother, you have done nothing to break my faith and trust in you. We are brothers," he told him simply, though Garsiv shook his head stubbornly.

"That's not good enough for me. I was so quick to judge you, not even pausing to think about you and father. Even when you repeatedly told me that you had not killed father, I did not listen. I was too arrogant and stubborn to listen to you. You did not try to kill me in Avrat while I accused you of a murder you did not commit and tried to kill you. What kind of brother am I, Dastan?" he asked ashamed. "What kind of a prince am I? Surely not one that deserves the crown. You deserve it more than I do for what you had to deal with. You did more than I ever would have, and you did it with only this woman standing behind you."

"And even, I was not behind him the entire way," Tamina added, smiling at Dastan cheekily, happy to see him chuckle lightly at her words. She smirked smugly at her achievement. During something so tense, Dastan would not be one to chuckle.

"That's true. Tamina tried to kill me a few times, and left me for dead others," Dastan said, looking at her before turning back to Garsiv. "Garsiv, listen to me. I know you better than almost anyone. You are my brother, and it would not have mattered what you had done against me. I would still love you just the same. You had done what you had thought was right. You were protecting father and the rest of Persia. You acted boldly and went to any measure to make things right again. And do not forget that you did eventually come to understand that I was innocent. And as far as everyone else's knowledge goes, you did no such thing. Father is still alive. Nizam, the tyrant, is dead. Everything is going to be fine."

Garsiv smiled, though still did not believe it entirely. The things that Dastan had said made perfect sense, though he still felt guilty. Eventually, he knew he would abandon the guilt, but for now, Dastan needed to understand that Garsiv needed time to grieve for everything that he had done, and for everything else that had happened.

Dastan smiled at his brother. "It did not happen. It only happened in Tamina's and my mind. You did nothing of the sort," Dastan continued, seeing the inability for his brother to accept the words he was saying to him.

"You have given us much to think about," Sharaman interjected for the first time, smiling uneasily at the pair of engaged royals. He still did not like everything that he had heard, but given an amount of time, he knew he would be able to come to accept their story for truth. "Perhaps now, we should go to bed and abandon any further thoughts on the matter for time being. Agreed?" Tus, Dastan, and Tamina nodded, while Garsiv still sat in his chair.

"I will go to bed in a moment. I still need time to...let it all sink in, I suppose."

"Brother, you should really go to sleep. It is not healthy to be thinking about things like this, especially how you are thinking of them," Dastan told him gently. "I already forgave the Garsiv who had done those things, I forgave him in that dream. I am awake, and so are you. You need to accept the forgiveness and move on. For your sake, for my sake, for all of our sakes. Please. Just get some rest. You will be able to think clearer anyways," Dastan reasoned, Garsiv finally nodding in defeat. He rose from his wooden seat and trumped upstairs to his room, sitting on the bed and pulling off his boots.

He threw them to the side angrily before lying down onto the bed, his front facing the stone ceiling, and he drifted into a restless slumber.

* * *

Tamina and Dastan walked a little longer around the castle, neither of them saying anything of great importance until they reached Tamina's ornate door.

"I think they took it well," Tamina said softly, earning another chuckled from Dastan, though this one was not happy like the others; this one was strained.

"Garsiv is going to be blaming himself for months about something he had not even done," Dastan said humorlessly, looking down into the hall. "Tus and my father took it well. Garsiv did not."

Tamina grabbed his chin tenderly, making him look at her. "He will. He simply needs time. We could not asume that all three of them would understand perfectly on the first explanation. Garsiv come to understand everything in his own time. You just have to be patient enough to wait for him."

Dastan nodded in understanding. "Goodnight, Princess," he told her affectionately, kissing her forehead.

"Goodnight, Dastan. Don't stay up too late to think about tonight either. You need your sleep just as much as Garsiv does," she lectured.

"I'm afraid that that might be impossible, Tamina," he told her wearily. She knew that he would stay up to impossible hours to reflect on everything that had happened, even when he was too tired to think anymore.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Then stay here tonight. Just so that you sleep. You need sleep."

Dastan nodded without argument and walked into the room with her, sitting down on the bed and staring at his boots.

Tamina sighed again before bending down and removing his boots for him. She laid him down on the bed, gently draping a light blanket over him. She turned to her shade and changed into a long comfy nightdress. When she stepped out, she was not surprised to see his eyes still wide open and pondering. He was staring up at the ceiling, as if tracing their nonexistent pattern.

She climbed into the bed next to him, snuggling in his side, grateful to at least have his arm drape around her and hold her closer to him.

The Princess looked up at him, reaching up and closing his eyes, leaving her hand there. She leaned up to his ear. "Sleep," she whispered soothingly. She kissed his cheek delicately and finally removed her hand, smiling when she saw his eyes remain closed.

Snuggling back down into Dastan's embrace, she too closed her brown eyes, immediately drifiting into sleep.

* * *

**And there we are. Everyone happy with the explanations? Please review and tell me so!**

**And yes, click down at the little button and submit a review if you want a happy author. **

**Sorry about the grammar/punctuation errors. I am really tired...so...yeah. Hopefully, there won't be a ton. I was looking at the screen for the majority of the time, so there shouldn't be too many. :)**

**And sorry for the shortness of the chapter. Isn't too much that I could do with it. Maybe I'll update again on Wednesday, but I'll need reviews for fuel...haha...okay, I'm done talking about reviews now, so no worries. :)**

**Love you all lots!**


	6. Morning with the Monarchs

**Aaaah...Well, thank you for the reviews guys! Great as always, and you know that I love you all...**

**So...*rubs hands together* I have a proposal for my lovely readers/reviewers. All of next week, I have off due to the marvelous thing known as "Spring Break". All week. Off. No school. At. All. Can somebody say BOO YAH! Plus, last week I was sick and missed all but one day of school, so I don't really have any homework, except for a stupid online class, but I digress. So, I was thinking that since I am going to be sitting at home idly for the week, maybe I could...update a little sooner than the typical Saturday? But, as always, I would need a little motivation. But not nearly as much as I have been asking for. I was thinking...instead of ten reviews, maybe six or seven? As soon as I get that amount, I'll update. So, if it is your guys' will, I could very well be updating TOMORROW! And I could be continuing that trend for the rest of the week! How exciting would that be? We might even get to the 100 review mark by the end of the week! But, no pressure for that little goal. We'll get there when we get there, and I am not worried about the 100 number in the slightest. I am quite satisfied with the 34 I have now. But a little more would always be welcome. :)**

**What do you guys think? Like it? I know that I do, and I would love to be able to give you guys a treat like that. And even if I don't get those six or seven, I am still going to update probably one other time this week before Saturday, but you guys control when I update. Leaving it totally in your hands, so yeah...**

**Now, I know you guys are probably tired of hearing me talk, so I am going to get on to the story. :D Let's see some more reviews! :D :D :D**

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Tamina stirred slightly underneath the light sheets, her legs slowly beginning to kick and make a welcoming ruffling sound. The Princess sighed, trying to get back to sleep, even burying her face in her pillow to help achieve this little goal. But no such luck. She was awake, and unfortunately, awake she would stay. Once more, she sighed, this time out of resignation and cracked one chocolate eye open.

The curtains were drawn open, a soft wind drifting through the windows and tickling her cheek affectionately. The maids always opened her window for her, just because she loved smelling the fresh, hot air the morning had to bring her. The sun shone delicately into her room, not even enough to fully illuminate her room. Perhaps a couple of the sun's gentle rays reached into her room through said window, dancing on the floor happily, the rest of her room paling in comparison to that small, lit spot on the stone floor.

Beside her bed, was her blessed nightstand, books and papers piled high on the glass table space, leaving barely enough room for the small tray of food and drink the maids had brought her. She smiled, beginning to reach out for a small piece of toast. But she couldn't. Two strong arms pulled her back when she tried to reach again, and quickly the smile was ripped from her face, replaced by a look of fear. Rapidly, she turned around in her bed, despite the painful squeeze on her arms and hit whoever was holding her.

"Ah!" she heard a grunt of pain, proud of herself and her skill, and saw someone tumble off the bed, landing with a heavy thud on the cold stone. Suddenly though, her pride was drained as soon as she came to the realization that that man she had just ejected from her bed was Dastan.

He sat up from the floor, his hair messed slightly and his breathtaking blue eyes bloodshot and watering slightly. He gripped his nose, blood already starting to blend with the color of his flesh. "Why did you do that?" he demanded, groaning again at his nose.

Tamina threw her blankets off of her and climbed over to him, reaching to take his hand away from his inose so that she could evaluate the damage she had caused him. He however, pulled back and away from her hands, looking at them worriedly and then looking back up at her whole she bit her bottom lip nervously. "Are you going to hit me again?" he asked, looking back down at the hand in question again.

She shook her head quickly. "I didn't know that was you," she explained, reaching for his face again, Dastan pausing for another moment and looking at her hands. "Please? I won't hit you. I promise," she added, coaxing him to her gently and cooing at him. He looked at her hands again before finally removing his own hand and resting it at his side.

His nose looked slightly crooked and was still bleeding profusely. "Who did you think it was? One of my brothers?" he questioned, looking up at her somewhat harshly. She shrunk away from his gaze, ashamed of herself for hitting him, but also knowing that it was slightly justified - what she did. She was only defending herself, and there was nothing wrong with that.

Finally, Tamina regained enough courage to look him in the eye. "No," she responded, copying his tone. He only raised an eyebrow up at her. "Dastan, it is not my fault that I am not accumstomed to waking up with a man holding me in my own bed. I have never done anything like this before, so you are going to have to be patient with me." He looked up at her, debating whether to forgive her or not. "Dastan, please. I am so sorry that I hit you." She watched him a little longer, the blood from his nose still dripping but beginning to recede. Finally, he nodded in surrender; she made it so hard for him to stay angry with her.

Tamina smiled gayly at him and returned to her bedside table, retrieving one of the cloths and pressing it to his nose gently, looking at him apologetically when he hissed. "Sorry," she murmured again, washing the blood away.

"Is it broken?" he asked nervously, reaching up to touch it, but his hand was smacked away by her own small one, as she was not yet done examining his nose.

She tossed him a lopsided smirk, making him forget about his nose for a moment. "It doesn't appear to be_ broken_. It's just a little crooked is all. Nothing too major to worry about, I think," she explained, faintly touching the tip of his nose with her finger, satisfied when he didn't grunt or anything like that.

"It's crooked?" he exclaimed, looking worriedly at her.

"Oh, Dastan, shut up! Stop being a baby!" She swatted his arm. "There is barely any difference. You are going to be just fine. It even has almost stopped bleeding now, so relax."

"But...you said that it's crooked..." he trailed off, looking at her pleadingly, making her feel somewhat amused at his situation.

"And if it makes you feel better," Tamina responded calmly, throwing the bloodied piece of cloth into the waste basket when the bleeding was under control again, as in, it stopped, thankfully, regardless of the thought that noses bled more. "it looks better that way. Gives you a rustic appearence, and makes you look very handsome."

Dastan pondered her words for a moment before smiling excitedly at her, the thought of him being even more handsome going to his head. Perhaps she should not have said that, after all, Tamina thought with a small smile at Dastan.

"More handsome?"

"And more arrogant too," she added quickly, elbowing him in his ribcage teasingly. He huffed at her words.

"I am not arrogant. Just pleased that my love is happy with my new appearence," he replied quickly.

"Oh please!" she said, tossing a pillow at him. "You immediately thought of how handsome you are - probably even wished for a mirror to see the new pretty prince. That little smirk had nothing whatsoever to do with me." She crossed her arms and legs defiantly, jutting her chin up to complete the look.

"Did you want that little smirk to do with you?" he asked in a teasing manner.

"Not with _that_ smirk, Dastan," she retorted.

"Is that jealousy I detect?" he teased, reaching up to tickle her under her shin with his finger while she only pushed it away.

"Jealously of what? A thought?"

"Knowing you, yes probably a thought..." he trailed off, looking at his fingernails in a bored manner.

"Now, Dastan why oh why, would I need to be jealous of a thought? I am the real thing, and I know that I am better than anything your weak little imagination could produce - or try to produce for that matter," she said.

"Prove it," he said quickly, looking intensely at her.

"I don't have to prove anything. I know that it is a fact." She was enjoying this little game.

"Humor me," he said again, just as passionately as before, making her knees feel slightly weak, but thankfully, she was still in bed. But in bed with Dastan...

Quickly and vigorously, she shook her head, not wanting those thoughts in her head. She knew that there would be a time where...that would happen, but for the moment, she wanted to avoid it.

Dastan smiled seductively at her, inching towards her, already reaching the same conclusion that she just had moments ago.

"Dastan, I will hit you again," she whispered, though she knew that he wasn't really listening to her. "Dastan, no. Stop it, Dastan," she said nervously as he didn't stop approaching her.

He reached out and pinched her side, making her erupt in a little fit of giggles. She never even knew that she was ticklish there. He smiled triumphantly and repeated the act, making her laugh a little harder this time. He continued tickling her side, making her laugh harder and harder before finally, he took her into his arms and tickled her wherever he could - her arms, her feet, her sides, her neck, making her squeal with delight at the new game. She playfully tried to push his arms away from her, but she couldn't, even when she literally tried to get him off her.

"Dastan!" she yelled, smacking him on the arm, just before she went into another fit of laughter when he tickled her underneath her kneecap. "Dastan, stop!" she yelled again, though he only smiled and tickled her face with his scruffy beard. "Dastan, please! I need to breathe!" she said, and finally, he relented, pulling his hands away, but leaving her in his lap, where she stayed, trying to catch her breath. She leaned her shoulder into him, as her body was angled away from him.

"You are very ticklish," he observed, pulling a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear tenderly.

"What on earth was that supposed to prove?" she said after another moment of deep breathing. She turned to look at him, her eyes still full of the mirth and happiness he had made her feel. She hadn't been tickled in so very long, and somehow, having him simply tickle her had made her feel like a little child again, where there was nothing in the world to worry about. She had felt so free - like she could fly with the new energy he had given her.

He smiled genuinely at her. "That your laugh is better than the laugh in my imagination," he responded sweetly, making Tamina's breath catch and her heart skip a beat. Just those simple things! It seemed to be so easy for him to say such powerful words, words that made Tamina's heart melt with warmth and love.

On their journey, she had never learned of Dastan's romantic side, but now that she knew he possessed it, she wasn't sure how she was going to be able to live without it. He made her feel so special, without even trying.

"Was it?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Dastan tenderly kissed her temple, chuckling a little. "Only you, Princess would feel insecure about your laugh. Your laugh is the most precious laugh, I think. And no worries, Princess. The laugh in my imagination can't even compare to the real thing." He nuzzled her cheek softly with his now crooked nose, feeling perhaps a slightly sting at the pressure, but he knew that it was indeed not broken.

Tamina snuggled into his side, pressing her back against his chest and looking out the window. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her shoulder in relaxation. This was what paradise was like, he suspected. Or even Heaven. Nay, Heaven could not be Heaven without Tamina there.

The Princess smiled at the brightening sky outside her window, taking deep breaths. Dastan's breathing copied her own, his chest rising and falling with hers, making everything even more perfect.

Cautious of his nose, Dastan turned his head to Tamina's neck, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck and placing a gentle kiss on the exposed skin, happy to feel her shiver inside his embrace. And he knew that that shiver had absolutely nothing to do with the light draft in her room.

They didn't know how long they sat there, maybe it was seconds, maybe it was hours. Tamina mentally chuckled at the clicheness of it all. She had always remembered reading those stories where authors would have their characters think that exact same thing, always thinking that that really wasn't possible, and they always had to have some way of keeping track of the time they would share together. But now that she was here, living those similar moments with Dastan, she knew that it was without a doubt one of the most true things. Easily, she lost track of time and lost thought about chores and duties, only thinking about the life that she was going to be spending with Dastan.

What a life it would be! So full of adventure, she thought immediately. Dastan would never allow himself to be trapped inside the walls of the palace, living the life of an old and worn monarch. He would want ot be out in the city, exploring every nook and cranny and spending endless amounts of time interacting with the people. He was a people person; she knew that the moment she met him. But even then, she knew that eventually, he would want to leave the city, and explore the rest of the world.

He would be travelling a lot, she mused. He was still a Persian Prince, and there were duties that would still command his attention.

But there would be even more duties commanding that same attention here, in Alamut, she reasoned with herself, and that new thought made her slightly nervous.

Dastan felt her pulse quicken and pulled away, looking at her curiously, Tamina now blushing for how she had apparently ruined the moment.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked kindly.

She looked into his eyes for a moment, those beautiful chocolate orbs sad and worried. "Tamina?"

"I was thinking about what would happen after we got married," she explained, sighing when she noticed that that answer did not quench his curiosity. "I know you, Dastan. You are adventurous and are always too busy with your little escapades to do anything important, like paperwork, or hold audiences for the people."

Dastan shrugged. "Well, my brothers would always be doing that. I was a little low on the scale when it came to the important manners, so I wouldn't be looked to in that way."

"Yes, but Dastan," she said hurriedly. "When we marry, you aren't going to have your brothers here with you to help you. There will be paperwork, and there will be people that need attending to. You are going to become the sole prince of Alamut. Dastan, the people are going to look to you for all of their needs, and you won't be able to go off on your little adventures. You will be needed here to raise the city back up again," she explained.

She knew that that was not what he wanted. He was not going to be able to handle the life of a cooped up man, becoming old without one last fantastic adventure. She didn't want him to go through that. She didn't want him to regret marrying her. She wanted him happy, and she knew that if he chose a path with her, he wouldn't be the happy man that he was now. He would change, and he would become a Dastan that she would not know. He wouldn't be the same Dastan she had fallen in love with.

Dastan looking down for a moment into her lap. Gingerly, her took her hand in his, looking at her palm and tracing the lines on it.

"Have you ever heard of palm reading?" he asked carefully, still looking at her hand.

"Dastan, don't try to change the subject. We need to talk about this," she lectured, trying to tear her hand from his, but he wouldn't let go.

"I'm not changing the subject. I'm adding to it," he said quietly, still looking at her palm. "So, have you?"

Tamina sighed and shook her head lazily.

"It is something that I learned of on the streets when I was a boy," he explained. "There are people called fortune tellers, and they tell you what your life will equate to, or tell you about your future. One of the techniques that these people use is called palm reading. Apparently, the lines on your hand tell a story about the life you are going to lead."

Tamina sighed, looking at her own palm which was still being toyed with. "I don't understand where you are going with this, Dastan," she told him.

"Well, anyway," he continued, not paying attention to her little interjection. "Look at your hand." He paused, letting her stare at her palm. All she saw were lines. "I had my own palm read when I was younger, and you know what? Never did the woman tell me that I was going to become a prince or marry a princess."

"Dastan, I still don't understand."

"What I am trying to say, Tamina, is that that woman had had a whole other life planned out for me, and she only planned it by looking at my hand. And you know what, that life didn't exist. My life turned out how it did because of my actions, and my influences on the people around me. It goes back to the destiny that you have always spoken to me of. We make our own destinies. And even when my life, when our life, can seem so planned out for us now, something may happen to change that. We cannot know the future, we only make our future. And I know that with you, Tamina, the only kind of future that I could make here in Alamut, with the people...it can only be a future of perfection. You see? It is all up to us how we want to spend the rest of our lives. Sure, there is going to be paperwork that is going to be non-negotiable, but we can get through it. We can still live happily and adventurously if we want," he explained, everything making much more sense now.

She nodded her head slowly, entwining their fingers. "So...if we wanted to..." she started. "We could sit here for a little longer just enjoying each other's company?"

He smiled brilliantly at her, his smile perfectly white and as shining as always. "You are catching on now." He wrapped his arms around her waist again, resuming his earlier position. He kissed her neck gently as he snuggled into it, breathing in her wonderful scent. It was a fantastic smell, like fire, but always with that smell that was distinctly Tamina.

However, their lovely relaxing period was soon interrupted when a loud knock bounced off the door, making both relaxing monarchs jump in surprise. Dastan scrambled out of the bed quickly, pulling on his boots. "I wasn't supposed to sleep in here, remember?" he said when she looked at him confused.

Tamina stealthily walked to the door and opened it quietly, her eyes meeting those of the oldest prince. "Do you know where Dastan is?" he asked quickly. "We seem to have...lost him..."

Tamina laughed at the oldest brother. She threw the door back, revealing the youngest prince standing there behind her with nothing but a triumphant smirk on his face.

"What happened to your nose?" Tus exclaimed.

"A miscalculation of how far a sleeping Princess' arm could reach," he lied easily and calmly, even pulling a laugh from her.

Tus shook his head. "You were never good at waking people up, Dastan," he teased.

Dastan shook his head defensively. "It is not my fault that Garsiv needs something as loud as a frying pan to get him up in the morning," he explained, making Tamina chuckle.

"Or as painful, if memory serves," another voice said, and the middle prince walked up to the rest of the family, smiling kindly, though both Dastan and Tamina could see that he had yet to fully come to terms with everything that had happened.

"It slipped out of my hand once!" Dastan exclaimed, again defending himself, and making Tamina widen her eyes at the middle brother who looked at Dastan skeptically.

"You let go out it, and you know it," Garsiv said in mock seriousness.

"Brother, please. If I wanted to hurt you with a frying pan, it wouldn't have slipped. It would have landed with my hand still holding onto the handle," Dastan explained with a smirk.

"Alright!" Tus said, interrupting his two brothers. "Yes, they are always like this. I'm sorry that you are going to have to live with it too," he said to Tamina, making her smile.

"Well, at least I get a choice," Tamina said, reaching out to pat Tus's arm sympathetically. "You were born with them."

"And that should not be said as if it were a punishment," Dastan said quickly, one arm enveloping her waist and pulling her to him. "Let's go to breakfast!" he exclaimed.

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**And there we are! So...likey or no likey? **

**Remember, six or seven reviews, and you get another chapter! Let's hurry and hit that goal! :D **

**Love you all lots!**


	7. Disturbance of the Peace

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Holy crap guys! Can it ever be possible for me to communicate the love that I feel for ALL of you? I don't think that it's possible, but I am going to try anyway. Seven reviews in one day. That is just absolutely fantastic! I know some writers who would simply kill for that number, and yet here I am having a lovely 41 look at me when I open up my fanfiction. *bursts into tears from sheer joy* And yes, I know that I have said it many times before, but I am going to say it again because I feel like it. *clears throat* You guys are the bestest reviewers EVER! I don't care who would try to argue with me over this little fact, because I know that I would be right. Six chapters with 41 reviews = me squealing for joy and doing my shameful happy dance. That is just flabbergasting! And a nice little shout out to a new reviewer - thump - for making me blush with the sweetest review. Thanks again for that - even if you were just trying to "butter me up" for another chapter. Well...here it is!

**Now, unfortunately, all good things need to come to an end at some time or another, and I hate having to be the one to do it. So, I am keeping my end of the deal. Six to seven reviews per chapter equals an update. That isn't changing - I'm just letting you guys know that once the week is up (I am still going to update on Saturday, regardless of the amount of reviews I receive for the preceding chapter) the whole little deal thingy is going to be ended. I am sorry - God knows I don't really wanna do that either, but school is important (even though I would KILL to be able to read/write fanfiction all day. Just know that.) **

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And now, onto what makes you guys review! - The story! Enjoy and leave a review on your way out! :D

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"Dastan, what happened to your face?" the king asked nervously once they entered the dining chamber. Everyone but Dastan laughed, though Tamina did feel a little guilty, but the look on his face was too priceless to ignore and not laugh at.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Is that all you care about? My face?" he exclaimed quite suddenly, throwing his hands out to the side in mock anger, making the rest of the family laugh a little harder at his misery. Though Tamina did reach up and pat his cheek tenderly, happy to see him smile a little at her.

"So, hold on," Garsiv said after a moment. "On this other journey, you two fell in love, I'm guessing?" He looked carefully at the two of them, watching their movements. Dastan had never been one to hide his feelings for a woman who he had supposedly never met. And it didn't appear to him that Tamina was against him touching her, quite the contrary, it seemed.

The Princess blushed madly at his words, looking anywhere but at the middle prince who took her embarrassment and response to an affirmative answer to his question.

Dastan however, looked quite the opposite, jutting his chin out proudly and pulling Tamina into his side. "Good deductive reasoning, Garsiv. But yes," he added when he saw his brother huff up. "We fell in love." He looked back down at the young woman in his arms, smiling gayly at her. She gazed back up at him, still feeling a little embarrassed, but she knew that she wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Love.

Such a strong and abrupt word, Garsiv thought. He had his number of wives, and yes there were some who made him laugh and feel happy...but Love? Why would anyone want to feel that emotion? It was such a confining emotion, and he knew that once you were in that net, there really would be nothing that would pull you out of it. You would be officially bound to another person, and all of a sudden, it is no longer just you that you would have to think about. You would have to consider your lover and take thought into what they would want and look to do in a situation. You would have to set aside time every day to spend time with that person, never more being allowed to do the things that you want to do. It would become all about the two of you. Never just you. Never just her. The both of you, and if the public saw anything else, shame be cast onto you for not taking care of your wife and her needs.

And that was another thing about Love. She would always have to come before you, at least in your eyes. Granted, the people would pay more attention to the manly figure, especially since he would be a prince who had to remain loyal to his people, but nevertheless. It was expected when you were in love to want to do everything for your lover, just to make them happy. It would no longer be about you.

Garsiv didn't like it. Not one bit. He wanted to postpone that chapter in his life - hopefully for forever. He would be completely content if he never found his true other half. Because, truth be told, he didn't think he had another half. Such precision there would have to be to create such a woman, and he knew that even the creator himself wouldn't be able to be that precise in what he wanted in a woman. He didn't need one anyway. He was happy just the way he was, and he obviously didn't need that woman to make him feel happy.

But what was it like? his traitorous little voice whispered. To have a Love you could call your own. To look upon a woman with nothing but pride in the fact that you were hers. To see Love looking back at you through her smiling eyes. What would it be like to wake up in the morning with her safely tucked into your arms and know that there would be no where else you would want to be? What about the fact that someone would understand you better than everyone else? To not even have to explain anything - simply knowing that she would understand exactly what you were thinking.

It would be Heaven.

But he also knew that Heaven was not where he was needed. Not right now at least. Now, he had a duty to the people of Persia, and there was too much to think about to consider starting a search for his one true love. He didn't know if a moment like that would really ever come to him, but he knew that right now was not the time for it. He had other things on his mind.

The rest of the breakfast passed by slowly and without much chatter until they were joined with company. The other wives came and sat down a little later, all of their dresses colors of black and reds, accentuating their proud and sharp, breathtaking features.

Tamina sat in her place beside Dastan looking at the other wives, who were giggling madly over something that was surely nothing of great importance. They didn't look to be smart enough to be able to laugh at something that was too complex for their minds to handle.

She caught Garsiv casting glances at several of them, all probably his wives, and she could just see him looking for something in them, always giving a little sigh before taking another disturbing bite of his food, then repeating with another one of his wives. Repeat. What could he possibly be looking for?

"I have a question," Tus asked after a while, the food already being taken away and the wives having already departed with their gaudy ribbons and scarves.

Dastan looked at his brother, nodding for him to continue.

"For Tamina," he said resolutely, looking at the young woman across the table, folding his hands under his chin in a contemplative manner.

"Hopefully, I have an answer then," she responded kindly. Dastan smiled at her and instinctively reached under the table to hold her hand. He didn't know why he did, but he just knew that he wanted to hold her hand. It felt right there.

"So, about this dagger. You told us just last night that once the holder of the dagger presses the button on top, only he or she knows what had happened in that...alternate universe, shall we say," he said simply, giving a little shrug, but still looking at her to make sure that his facts were completely correct. She nodded, both of them already knowing where the question was going.

"Tus, we don't know why she remembers everything that she does," Dastan intervened. "I'm eternally grateful to the fact that she does, but we don't know why."

"As you said so bluntly, Tus," Tamina continued, "only the one who presses the button is supposed to know about the other outcomes. That is the way that it always has been, and this is the first time that something truly different has happened. Apparently, your uncle, Nizam, had been with Dastan at the time when he pressed the jewel button, so in all honesty, it should have been him, if anyone, to remember what had happened. But, for some reason he didn't, and only I do."

"Then where were you?" Garsiv interrupted clearly, catching Tamina by surprise. She turned her attention the next in line, eyeing him simply. She felt Dastan's grip on her hand tighten, she heard his breathing stop for a moment along with a small sigh a moment later. But Tamina was not afraid like her betrothed was.

"I was dead," she said calmly, as if she was discussing something as trivial as the weather.

"You shouldn't say it like that, Tamina," Dastan rationalized, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, the sting reminding them of the quiet morning they had shared. Now, things were complicated once more, and Tamina was being her stubborn self.

His love only shrugged, not really caring. "It is what happened. I told you to let me go, and you did. I died. But I am not dead, so there should be nothing to worry about anymore," she said simply, briefly forgetting that she had an audience (who was currently looking at her as if she had just sprouted wings and learned to fly).

"You were dead?" the king asked quietly, his voice really only above a whisper.

But Dastan quickly interjected his own thought. "I did not let you go, and you know it. _You _let go. Not me."

"I let go because I had to, Dastan. Nizam would have had his way if I hadn't," Tamina said lowly, giving him a harsh glance, the rest of the family going quiet.

"But he didn't," Dastan replied quickly, returning her glare.

"Just like _I _didn't die." Tamina continued to stare him, the thought of the rest of his family listening in not really bothering her at the moment. She even forgot that they were there.

He furiously shook his head, his patience running lower and lower and his temper already becoming more agitated by the minute. "It is not the same thing, Tamina," he growled.

"It is _exactly _the same thing, Dastan," she growled back, feeling her own temper beginning to lash out at him. Why was it so hard for him to understand that she had done what she had to save everyone? To keep everyone safe? And now that everything had been restored back to its original order, why couldn't he understand that she was alive now, and that what had happened, didn't really happen. She was there now, with him. And all he could think about was her dying for something that he didn't see fit to die for.

"No it is not!" he yelled, the family now feelng quite awkward with how everything had turned out. All Tus had done was ask a simple question, (or what he had thought to be a simple question) and it had turned into a war between the two supposedly in love monarchs. He hadn't meant to cause anything like this, but that was how it turned out anyway. "In that other world, I _kept _Nizam from doing what he had wanted to do. _You had actually died. Died."_

"And I am back now, alive as ever," she returned angrily, throwing down her napkin and standing to glare down at him.

"But you weren't alive!" he yelled back , standind as well to tower over her small form, but she didn't look the least bit intimidated from his height. She didn't even think about that.

"But I am now damn it!" she yelled, the brothers surprised by her breach in etiquette. Women were not supposed to curse. "And right now is all that matters! I am still the woman that I was on that god-forsaken journey, and I am not dead! Why can't you understand that?"

"Um..." the king interrupted quietly, snapping both young monarchs back into reality. Dastan's eyes cooled slightly, and Tamina looked at the king, her eyes not necessarily as reproachful as the prince's. "Perhaps, we should leave the room..." he said slowly, at a loss for words at the moment. "Just so that you can continue this...discussion without the overwhelming presence of the rest of the family. Tus, Garsiv," he called, making to stand from his seat. "Let us go...somewhere else," he added uneasily with another look at the two angry monarchs. Garsiv and Tus immediately stood, laying down their own napkins, eager to leave the place and get out of range of their brother's and Tamina's anger lashings.

"No, sit back down," Tamina siad harshly and coldly, making them all stop in their tracks, including the king. They looked nervously at one another before, just as nervously, sitting back down in their seats, clinging to the arm rests as if they were going to save them from the wrath of the Princess. "I have said all that I have needed to say," she said harshly, giving one last glare at Dastan before stomping out of the room with her head held high.

He could be such an ignorant bastard at times.

Rapidly, she walked to the garden room, throwing open the doors with a loud bang. She then disregarded her call for Princess like behavior and ran to the waterfall in the corner, sitting on one of the stones. She stared down into the cool pools, little specks of gold twinkling underneath the surface - goldfish. "He makes me so angry sometimes!" she exclaimed loudly, balling her hands into tight fists and squeezing her eyes shut. When she finally released the tension in her hands and opened her eyes, she looked back down into the waterfall, not surprised at all to see that the goldfish had not even bothered to look at her. They didn't care about what happened in the past. But they simply didn't care about anything - they were fish. But they at least didn't dwell on anything. All they cared about was swimming in happy circles and living the life every normall fish would lead. There was nothing extraordinary about being a fish.

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Dastan felt terrible. Absolutely horrible. Not only had he humiliated her in front of his entire family, but he had yelled at her. Actually yelled at her! And she certainly had no trouble screaming back at him, he mused.

"She's just about as stubborn as you are, Dastan," his father commented softly. He hated the fact that they all seemed to be calmer without her there with them. She was going to be a part of this family, and if they couldn't at least act politely to her while she was there..."Probably even more, by the looks of it."

"Father, you don't understand," Dastan replied sorely, looking after the place she had exited through. She had actually walked out on him. Because he had been too stubborn to care about what she had to say. Everything she had said, in retrospect, really did make perfect sense. She didn't have to see herself fall to her own death. She wasn't the one who was plagued with the fact that he had lost everyone in his family. She had no idea that every time he closed his eyes, he could see her falling to her death all over again and hearing her scream. She had no idea the mental toil he went through. She immediately assumed that he would get over it now that she was alive and breathing again, even being given the gift of her other person's memories. But that wasn't what he cared about at the moment. Tamina hadn't taken into consideration that he had suffered through everything more than she had, more than Tus had, more than Garsiv had. She had basically called him foolish for thinking such things though he hadn't made those thoughts abundantly clear for her to scoff at. She didn't even care that hearing her talk about her death so simply made him feel like dying. He wanted her to care about her life, even if it was a life that she hadn't technically led. And from her little display of character, she made it clear that she hadn't.

"I think you need to go talk to your betrothed," his father continued, reaching out to a large bowl of grapes and taking a small bunch, pulling them off their little vines calmly. "You don't want to start your marriage with her on a bad foot."

Dastan looked up at the ceiling. He honestly didn't want to talk to her right now. He knew that she was still angry with him, and he was still angry with her too, so it would only end like the first "discussion" had. Badly.

"I need time to cool down, is what I need, Father," he responded, still gazing up at the ceiling.

"Well, then get out of here and calm down. But don't think that you just get to skip talking to her about what just happened. It isn't going to resolve itself without the help of its instigators," he father said sagely, popping a grape into his mouth.

Dastan only nodded before leaving the chamber. He needed to think.

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***peeks head out from behind keyboard* Yes, it was their first fight. It's sad, but a relationship can't go completely perfect all the time. Please forgive me? Hopefully, they are going to make up and everything in the next chapter, but you never know. I don't even know to be quite honest. When I started writing this chapter, I had no idea that I was going to make them fight in the end, but that seemed to be what my fingers were planning, so...yeah...**

**And yes, this chapter is kinda short compared to my other ones, which are most of the time over 4000 words. Let me explain? It is kinda late over here, and I am not used to writing two chapters in two consecutive days. Doesn't give me my lovely week to prepare what to do in the next chapter. So, I was kinda running low on idea gas towards the end there. And unfortunately, if I am going to be keeping up this updating every day business, expect this to be the length. It's just the way it's gonna be. I am going to try to pull them out as long as I can for you guys, but no promises. Hopefully more than 3000 words at least. You can deal with that right?**

**Deal is still on. Six to seven reviews = update same day. :D**

**Please leave me a review on your way out, and tell me how I did on the fight scene. Are you mad at me? Are you satisfied? Are you shocked? Any pointers? Anything at all? Well, I will read it! Trust me!**

**Love you all lots!**


	8. The Life of a Child

**And again, you guys never cease to amaze me. Thanks to the guys who reviewed! You make my day! In two days, this story has accumulated 13 reviews. Wow. That is just crazy business, that's what that is. We are going to be at the 100 mark in no time if we continue at this rate. **

**And, okay, I have to say this. Kinda unrelated, but kinda not. Have you guys seen that advertisement for that new movie, Source Code? Well, guess who the main character is...? Jake Gyllenhaal! (God, I hope I spelt his name right! I wouldn't be able to forgive myself! Haha) It's our Dastan guy! It's coming out this Friday so...I am going to go try to see it, and you guys probably should too. Might be another fandom I might dip my feet into if I feel like it. Though this one will always come first, so no worries! :D**

**Also...since this is getting kinda difficult for me to write a chapter every single night...would it be possible for maybe...eight reviews instead of six or seven? So, really seven or eight. That way it MIGHT give me a chance to think about what I wanna do the next chapter. It's hard to keep these creative juices flowing continuously like this. Typically, I begin thinking about it on Thursdays briefly and stuff like that, so I give myself three days to come up with a chapter, and in one night...it's a litte tricky, you know what I'm saying? And to add onto that, I have a speech that I have to give by Wednesday for an online class, and that is kinda stressing me out a little. But once I have given it and all of that stuff, it'll be all good, and then we can probably go back down to the six or seven reviews for the next update. But for this chapter...seven or eight, guys? Thanks! And maybe an idea or two when you drop by...I'll give you a shoutout! **

**Kay, so here is the chapter...will Dastan and Tamina make up? Let's watch. Or read. Hehe...**

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Garsiv felt like laughing now as he watched Dastan walk worriedly out of the dining chamber. How strange it had been - the fight between his brother and his betrothed. Granted, he knew that the two of them would have to fight the other sooner or later. That was simply the way that Dastan was. Dastan always found reasons to have a little argument, and judging the princess, he knew that she sometimes ached for a war too, and with Dastan, there would be no worries about not having the opportunity.

But that was not all that Garsiv was thinking about. Moments ago, he had thought about Love and all of its revolting properties, and somewhere in him, he had felt envy for the two of them. For a moment, he had wanted to be in love like they were, but now that he was given the whole show of a war between two in love monarchs, he knew that it could certainly not be for him. Even when they were in love, they found a way to argue. It wasn't that he didn't expect that, but after a little fight like that, he had assumed that they were just going to look at each when Father had interrupted them and burst into tears in shame and guilt. But Tamina had looked just as angry, and Dastan still looked like he could murder someone. Tamina hadn't even looked at Dastan when she stormed out of the dining hall. Dastan had stood there, looking quite petrified, his eyes still smoldering and his lips still frowning - even looking like a sneer from some angles. And then, when Father had told Dastan to go and talk to Tamina, all Dastan had done was saying that he didn't want to talk to her. It reminded him of the fights he and Dastan had had when they were smaller.

Garsiv had always been one of the more...rebellious children. And always eager to please his older brother, Dastan had always gone with him on little escapades, and always whenever they'd begin their run from the nannies, Dastan had always found some way to be the only one who got in trouble. Garsiv always seemed to get away - how, he had no idea. Dastan was a lot more crafty than Garsiv was, though he would never, ever tell Dastan that in risk of allowing Dastan's head to double its size. But it was true. Dastan was always the acrobat, so how he was always the only one to get scolded or get caught, he did not know. But naturally, his little brother would always be furious with him afterwards - angry that Garsiv had allowed the nannies to catch him, and angry that Garsiv had never done anything to help him.

So then, Garsiv would always have to find some way to make it up to his little brother. He'd steal a pastry or two from the kitchens and give it to Dastan, apologizing and being forgiven for his deed. Eventually, Garsiv started protecting his little brother from getting caught (mainly because the cooks threatened to tell his father about the stolen pastries), and a sense of trust was built between the two of them. As they grew, their pranks would grow to be more thought out and more devious. They actually planned on getting caught, so they would come up with escape routes so that they could get away from the nannies.

However, there would still be those rare occurrences when the plans wouldn't go the way they had wanted them to, and someone needed to be given the blame. Dastan, being Dastan, would always stand up and tell their father that he was the mastermind and that Garsiv didn't want to do it in the first place, always making the middle prince feel all warm inside. When their father would then punish Dastan severely and Garsiv...less severely and then leave them, his little brother would look at him like Garsiv had betrayed him. He would always question his reasoning behind allowing only him getting in trouble. "Why won't you ever tell him otherwise?" And then the whole battle between the two would last several days until Gariv finally apologized again.

But that was just it. Garsiv was always the one apologizing. It was never Dastan who said that he was wrong in a situation that was serious. It was always someone else's fault in something serious, though he was the one to take the blame with the little castle pranks when they were little. When Garsiv had hurt a little girl in the market one day (the little girl had it coming in his opinion), Dastan didn't say a word. Maybe it was because Dastan truly was not involved in the injury whatsoever, but he didn't say anything to protect Garsiv. At the time, he was furious with Dastan for not sticking up for him like he always done. However now, he knew that Dastan had made the right choice in that scenario.

So, what would happen in this new, dramatic fight? Would Tamina apologize for being as heartless as she was? (because it was obvious that she was, and it was just as obvious that Dastan hated the way she talked so easily about her death) Or would Dastan come to his logical senses and realize that she is completely right? (And they all knew that she was.)

It was a fickle. Tamina did not appear to be the type of woman who begged for fogiveness when something were to go wrong, and he, from personal experience, knew that Dastan was not one to come out and admit when he had angered the family or done something wrong.

But it was Love, he supposed. Ah, there was that awful word all over again. Nowadays, everything seemed to be brought back to that sole word, and that alone was disturbing for Garsiv. He did not want to get involved in that word and everything that came with it. Though it seemed that his wants would not necessarily matter in this case. He would be asked of his opinion too whether he wanted that or not. And he most certainly didn't.

* * *

Dastan walked and walked, leaving the palace. He didn't want to be there right now. But he didn't know where he wanted to be.

Part of him wanted to be at Tamina's side, sorting out this little mess that wasn't supposed to be there in the first place.

But another part of him wanted to be angry with her forever and never forgive. He wanted to make her feel the pain that she had pushed on him.

However, he knew that under no circumstances would he ever be able to do that. He couldn't hurt her. He wouldn't hurt her. At least not like that.

But wasn't he hurting her right now? Being away from her? He had yelled at her and had already thought of ways to hurt her more. But he hadn't actually hurt her more. That was key.

A little further up the street he was walking, he saw a little boy, probably about seven or eight. His clothes were torn in places, his black hair unkempt, and his face marked with little patches of dirt. The little boy was thin beyond belief, his skin hanging off his bones in a sallow-ey manner, making him look more like a skeleton rather than a child.

He reminded Dastan of himself. That was who he was before his father had taken him in. Granted, he had never been that thin, but he had known that face. He knew the look of lonlieness, hurt, and grief. Dastan swallowed a lump in his throat when he looked at that boy. It killed him to see that he had once been there, but what was more? It killed him to see that there were still children there. Obviously, he had always known that there was going to be impoverished people who had impoverished children, but it always hurt him more to see the proof.

Shakily now, he walked to the little boy, who stood behind a wall, watching a well clad man enviously and devilishly. The little boy licked his lips and began walking to the richer man, and Dastan walked a little faster.

Once he reached the boy, he grabbed his shoulders almost violently, catching the boy by surprise. "Don't do that," Dastan whispered, casting a quick glance at the rich man approaching a vendor's stall who luckily didn't notice them. The boy looked at him shocked for a moment before his gaze turned to a more angry one.

"What do you care of a poor boy? You are wealthy and have nothing to fear about wealth," he spat out, his brown eyes watering slightly, tugging at Dastan's heartstrings painfully.

"I was not always wealthy. I once was like you, a poor boy living in the streets with no money to my name," Dastan explained loosely, tugging the boy along with him, coming to stand in the shade behind on the walls. the boy eyed him curiously.

"How did you become wealthy then?" he asked.

Dastan looked at the little boy carefully. "Not by stealing."

"But I have to steal. I have no money, and I am hungry!" the little boy retorted painfully.

"I was hungry too," Dastan replied sympathetically, running a hand through the boy's greasy hair.

"So what did you do?" the boy asked thoughtfully.

"I...was an entertainer of sorts, I suppose," Dastan replied nervously. "People would pay me to see me run on tops of buildings and do flips through the air -"

"So you were an acrobat?" the boy interrupted, looking him up and down dubiously. "You don't look like an acrobat."

"Well, I'm not an acrobat anymore. I'm a prince," Dastan said softly. He had never liked the word acrobat, but it was true. It just seemed so...confining. Oh, he didn't know.

The little boy laughed. "You? A prince? You must be lying!"

"I promise, I'm not," Dastan replied with a smile. "I'm the youngest prince of Persia. In fact, I'm even going to be marrying the princess of Alamut soon." Dastan frowned, thinking of Tamina again and the fight that had had all over again.

The little boy looked at him carefully. He pulled Dastan down into a sitting position and then preceded to poke and prod his face, tugging at his nose and pulling his lips apart to look at his teeth. He looked at Dastan's hair and garments, smelling them too. "You really are a prince!" he exclaimed after his moment of observation.

Dastan smiled at the little boy, ruffling his hair and making the boy laugh. "What is your name, boy?" he asked, and as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he smiled further. That was the first thing his father had asked him when they met all those years ago.

"Ranin," he replied. "What is yours?"

He smiled gayly now. "My name is Dastan."

"Dastan," Ranin mumbled, testing the name. "I like it. It sounds like the name of a prince. What about my name? Do you think that I could be a prince one day like you?" he asked, his eyes wide and full of wonder.

Dastan frowned, angry with himself for giving the boy that kind of hope. It had been sheer dumb luck that he had been given the opportunity to become a prince. "I don't know Ranin," he said slowly, contemplating his words carefully, though the boy was not as aloof as Dastan had perceived.

Ranin's face fell, becoming sad and worried once more, not the boy he had spoken to a moment ago. This Ranin was scared about what life had in store for him. "I won't be, will I?" he asked, looking down at the ground and breaking Dastan's heart all the more.

He knew that he could adopt like his father had but...he wasn't married to Tamina yet, and he wasn't...ready to have children yet. He still needed time to adjust to a new lifestyle. But that didn't mean that he couldn't help the little boy.

"Ranin, you might not be a prince, but you certainly don't have to live here in the streets. What would you think about living there? In the palace?" he said slowly, pointing at the tips of a tower of the palace. The boy's eyes widened in alarm.

"I would be a servant, wouldn't I?" he asked quickly, making Dastan smile.

"I don't think you would have to be a servant, no. But you would get to eat to your heart's content, and you would certainly have a warm place to sleep at night," Dastan said comfortingly. He wanted to help Ranin, and he was sure that Tamina would approve of what he had done. There would be no way that she could turn away a child who needed a home and love and food.

Ranin's eyes eyes grew even larger. "Really?" he said in a whisper, hardly being able to contain himself.

"Where are you parents?" Dastan asked, ready to give them a place to stay too. But the look the little boy gave him was all too familiar to Dastan. He had given his father the same look. "I didn't have any parents either, Ranin," he said soothingly.

"What happened to yours?" he asked, making Dastan grimace at that detail. "It's okay. I don't want to talk about my parents either," he replied quickly once he saw the grimace. Smart lad.

Dastan nodded, holding his hand out to the little boy who took it and pulled him up. "Shall we go?" he asked as he brushed off the back of his pants.

Ranin nodded excitedly, still holding onto Dastan's hand tightly.

"Okay. Come on then. But you have to promise me something, Ranin," Dastan said as they began weaving their way in and out of the crowd.

"What?" Ranin asked, bouncing up and down with excitement.

Dastan smiled back bent down and grabbed the boy's shoulders and made him focus on him. "You can't steal. Ever."

Ranin looked at him for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, I promise."

"Alright, now you look hungry. Come on," Dastan replied eagerly, holding his hand out again for Ranin to take, satisfied when he did. He was glad that he was able to repay the deed his father had done for him. He saved a life.

* * *

**Okay, I swear, that was not where I was trying to go AT. ALL. Never in my plans was I gonna have a kid get involved. But now that he is here...I kinda like it. I could use him in my plot...Well, things just got more interesting in my mind. *drums fingers together evilly* **

**Sorry if you guys were looking for a make up scene in this chapter. Unfortunately, even if the boy didn't get involved, it wouldn't have come this chapter anyway. I need to let the anger sit and fester for a little bit. Everyone knows that fights don't always get fixed in one day, and we can't be going all cheesy and all lovey-dovey. There will be a time for that, I promise, but not yet. I have plans...Oooh, I am so excited! So yeah, I don't know when they will make up, but just know that they will. These two are perfect for each other, but they gotta have their moments away from all the "I love you so much I could die" stuff. Not that I don't like writing that and reading that (I love doing that) But I like messing with the status quo too. **

**Oh, yes, pronunciation. I know the name isn't the most creative in the world, but in case you are wondering how you say it, it is "Ray-nin" Not "Raw-nin". Just to clear that up for you guys. **

**And remember, seven to eight reviews this time for it. Not a huge change, but it might give me a chance to play with this new character a little. **

**Love you all lots!**


	9. Resolutions and Opened Wounds

***pokes head out shyly from behind keyboard* Hi… Yes, actually, I am alive and well contrary to what some of you may believe. **

**Now, this is just one of the most terrible things I have EVER done in my life, and I can't believe that I went a full 19 DAYS before updating. I am ashamed of myself and have been kicking myself all week, and for a little bit longer. May I attempt to explain my tardiness? Well, during that wonderful Spring Break that I hope we all enjoyed (those of you poor souls who haven't been blessed with it yet, I am soooo sorry, and I hope it comes with haste. :D) well, you guys tired me out, I guess. I am astounded by the amount of reviews this story has received, and I am sooooo sorry if I made you think that I hadn't reached that quota. Quite the contrary, we probably reached it during the day. However, that Friday, I had slept over at a friend's house, and the next day, I needed a breather. I didn't have any good ideas for this story whatsoever, and I didn't want to post something that I wasn't proud of. Now...THIS week...well, it has been a rather dreadful, long, tiring week. I have had six tests this week, had a concert on Wednesday night, been up to the neck in homework from my online class, and during all of this, planning a party for a friend of mine. And trying to get in little work outs here and there. It has been a very, VERY stressful time right now, as it always in towards the end of the school year, you know? And believe me, I have had ideas buzzing in my head for this story ALL WEEK, but I haven't had ANY time at ALL to write any of it down, let alone update. **

**So, there is my excuse. I hope that it is good enough. I am really sorry, and I am going to try to prevent that from happening ever EVER again. I did not like it in the slightest. **

**You guys are amazing reviewers, as I have said many, many times, but I don't think that I would ever be able to say it enough for you guys to understand how great I feel to have such sophistocated people reviewing this story, chapter after chapter. And for those of you who aren't reveiwing, well, go ahead and start! I'd love to hear from you! :D **

**I'm sure you are tired of hearing me go on about my stressful life and my undying love for you all, so FINALLY, here is the chapter that we have all secretly been looking forward. This should be fun!**

* * *

Ranin stumbled into the castle, the prince beside him calm and almost careless in his movements. It was hard for the little child to actually believe that this great warrior had once been in a very similar situation as the boy. But this man had been blessed, given a family to love, and food to relieve the ache in his belly. And endless water to quench his parched throat.

But still, Ranin did not know this mysterious man. He was a Persian, and it was the Persians who had conquered the city just days ago, mercilessly killing all of those who obstructed their well thought out path. Could he trust this prince? He did not know. The Princess of Alamut seemed joyous considering the circumstances, but that didn't mean anything.

Was this Persian just as cruel as his fellow warriors? Had he, in fact, instigated the attack on thier city? What was his intent with the Princess? Did he have a possible ulerior motive? So many questions buzzed around in the confused mind of the little boy, causing a dull ache to arise in his temples for thinking so deeply. Ranin clasped his temples, rubbing them gently and trying to ease the pain away. He sighed when the pain receded a little and looked back up at the prince who was smiling happily at him.

What about this smile? What is a smile of mischievousness? Evil? Cruelty? Or was it what it looked to be? A smile of nothing but joy and comfort.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, Ranin," the prince spoke tenderly to Ranin, calming his nerves slightly. He still didn't know what to think, but this man did seem to be sincere in his interest in him and his health. Whether it was for good or bad reasons, the young boy had no clue, but he knew that he was going to be remaining on his guard until he understood the prince of Persia a little better.

Nevertheless, Ranin grinned back, challenging the prince. He would not allow Prince Dastan to see his nervousness. He would not be weak in front of such an unpredictable man. "I am not afraid," he replied stubbornly, gazing back into the blue eyes of the prince who seemed to doubt it for a minute, but the prince didn't comment, only smiling a little grander.

"Of course not," Dastan said with resolution, "One like you is afraid of nothing, eh?" he continued a little lighter, sarcasm coating his voice and insulting the little boy. Ranin did not appreciate it, making him feel all the more nervous.

The young child blinked, contemplating his response carefully. "A boy such as me has many things to fear in his lifetime," he told the prince carefully, looking down at the floor in concentration as he said it.

Dastan frowned, remembering the days of his early childhood all too vividly. It was something that he would never wish upon anyone. Nizam probably didn't even deserve such a worry. Living from one day to the next, never even knowing if, in the morning, you would wake up. It was a chance that you would have to take when you would close your eyes for the night. Some children didn't sleep at all, and some slept with their eyes constantly squinted, not even really sleeping. They had to be on thier guard. And it hurt to see anyone going through that same situation that he had been born into. But it hurt even more to see the children who had been abandoned.

_Dastan awoke in the morning, rubbing his eyes and snuggling further into the warm wool of his bed. However, his filth covered face did not meet the warm wool. It met cold, splintering wood that scratched his cheek when he moved. _

_He cracked one hazy blue eye open, looking around carefully and observing everything with a keen eye. _

_There was no one around, thankfully and finally, Dastan gathered the strength to sit, crossing his bony legs as he did so. His small feet were covered in scrapes and bruises from his constant walking, and his calves still were lifeless and thin, barely even holding him up while going on said walks. His thighs were small too, no muscle surrounding the bone, only several gruesome bruises from a place he had been kicked. His waist, small and timid gurgled in a soft plea, already seeming to know the answer to its pained wails. His muscles along his back were sore from his night sleeping on wood, pain erupting all over his spine when he stretched. _

_Dastan was nothing but a skeleton now. His parents had been gone for months, and there was no hearing from them, most likely for forever. They weren't coming back. They didn't believe that there was any other solution. _

_The life of a performer was the life he had to live, and even then, there was nothing but a few scraps of paper left for him and maybe one or two coins at the end of the tedious day. He could rarely afford a meal, living off of the free meals that one of his old neighbors continuously offered him. _

_He didn't like asking for the help of others, believing that the gods would bless him after testing his strength. But after so long, there would be days where he would fight to land on their door step and pound on the meager door. His mouth would be dry and his eyes lifeless, as if his soul no longer occupated the sickly body. _

"Your Majesty?" the prince heard, snapping out of his painful thoughts. He didn't like thinking about the past he had endured without his real parents. But they weren't his parents anymore. He had his father, and that was all that mattered to him.

"Yes, Bis?" he asnwered tentatively, seeing the uneasiness in his comrade's brown orbs.

"It's Tamina...She..." he started even more nervously, looking anywhere but into Dastan's eyes.

"What?" Dastan asked quickly, striding over to his lifelong friend and grabbing him fiercely by the shoulders. "What's wrong with Tamina?"

"She wants to talk to you," Bis said quietly. He looked over Dastan's shoulder, eyeing the little child warily. "Who is the child?" he asked.

"Don't scare me like that, Bis! Talking with her is not like talking with Satan, I assure you. Oh, the boy? Yes, I found him on the street, like Father found me. I thought that I would repay the act Father did for me and extend such an offering to the boy. No, I do not intend to adopt him, but I do want him to live here. He needs a home, and this is the least that we can do."

Bis looked unsure, biting his bottom lip to further prove the emotion. "Dastan, I think that it is wonderful that you want to save the lives of poor children like you father saved you, but I think that it is not only you that you have to consider when making decisions, especially decisions such as these. Tamina needs to know that you want to care for this child before you already invite him into your home, which technically isn't even your home yet. I hear that you two just fought anyways, which made this an even riskier move. Do you ever think things through?" Bis asked, voicing his opinion quite frankly and somewhat astounding Dastan. Never before had he heard his best friend talk in such a reproachful manner towards him. But now that he thought about what he had done, he understood what Bis was saying perfectly. More than perfectly. Tamina was going to kill him. And she would enjoy doing such a thing too, he had not doubt.

"What do you propose I do? I said that I'm not adopting him!" he exclaimed, getting a little harsher and scaring Rinan slightly. He sent the boy a small smile and an apologetic gaze, but it didn't seem to do enough to make the boy feel more comfortable again.

Bis glared at Dastan furiously. "Don't go yelling at me about something that you should not have done in the first place! This isn't my quarrel. Talk to Tamina, but you better pray first." Bis scoffed angrily and then trumped away, leaving the small boy in the hall without so much as a glance.

"He does not want me here, does he?" Ranin's small voice squeaked nervously. Dastan looked at him and saw the anxiety buried deep in the child's brown eyes. It was wrong, what Dastan had done. He should not have brough the boy to the palace. He should not have done this. He could have very easily walked to a little shop and bought the boy a nice meal.

_But Father took you in, did he not? _A small annoying voice chimed in the back of his head.

_Father always said that I had the makings of a king in me..._ Dastan replied to it, pinching his nose in a nervous manner.

_And this boy does not? _the voice continued.

_I wasn't trying to steal out of someone's pockets when Father found me, _Dastan returned harshly. What had he done?

_No, you weren't. You were caught trying to evade the law. _

_For Bis, _Dastan replied. _Now, shut up._

The voice thankfully left, but Dastan figured that it wouldn't be the last time he would encounter such a devious trick of his mind.

Instead, he turned to the boy, who was hurt and confused with the chaos going on around him. "It does not matter what he wants," Dastan replied slowly. "He is not the prince."

"But you do not own this place, do you? It isn't your decision to make by yourself," the small child said quietly, bowing his head in shame. It was too good to be true. Everything that had been in his grasp suddenly vanished. Like when you are stranded in the middle of the desert, and you cannot help but see that large pool of water that you never seem to walk to. It evades you every time. A cruel trick that the devil would play against your eyes. It would show you the thing you wanted most in this world, and take it away, or simply flaunt it in front of you, while you have no means whatsoever to hold it in your hands. Like water, it always slips out of his hands, slippery and oh so evasive.

"Tamina will understand," Dastan said in an even quieter voice. He _hoped _Tamina would understand. What would happen if she didn't? What type of heart ache this child would have to go through when he would be told that it was nothing more than a lie that was spoken as a truth? A promise that could not be kept.

Ranin shook his head slowly. "I don't think she will." Dastan looked carefully at the boy, watching as Ranin blinked quickly, and scratched just underneath his eye as if he had the urge to itch. However, Dastan knew better. The boy was crying. Crying because he knew that in perhaps days, he would die of starvation or thirst. Or die in the coldness of the night. Whatever the boy thought, it would end in death.

"You don't know her as well as I do," Dastan responded, trying to comfort the boy, but from the looks of it, it wasn't helping ease the child's pained conscience in the least.

"Dastan?" the prince heard, and quickly, he turned around, his bangs draping his blue eyes and obscuring his vision, but he didn't need sight to tell him who it was who had spoken to him. It was Tamina.

The prince slowly pushed away the bangs and made eye contact with the princess. She looked upset, not angry like she had been, but still. She looked as if she was willing to negotiate or talk about the breakfast. She was willing to makes amends. Dastan sighed. "Yes?"

"I thought Bis told you that I needed to speak with you? Did he not find you?" she asked nervously, now avoiding his eyes. She didn't want to argue anymor ewith him. She didn't like doing it. She knew that she shouldn't have been so inconsiderate. He was right in some ways, after all.

"He found me," Dastan said slowly, looking down at the ground. What to do now?

"And you chose not to come to speak with me?" she asked, looking up at him now, hurt painfully obvious in her eyes. Did he not care for her anymore? Did he still not want to talk to her?

"No!" the prince yelped quickly, coming to her side in an instant, cupping her supple face in his over sized, callous hands. "I mean...I was preoccupied..." he said slower, looking over his shoulder to the little boy who was eyeing the two of them warily.

Tamina followed his gaze, even standing on her tip toes to see what he was looking at, or rather _who. _It was a small boy, probably around the age of ten or eleven. His dirty skin was hanging off his bones which were vivid and obvious. His dark hair was sprawled around his head in unruly patches, and his clothes were nothing but torn pieces of rags. His lips were blistered and cracked, begging for water and sucking whatever moisture there was from said lips, even if it meant harming them. His round eyes were glazed, not shiny in the slightest and hurt and confused. And even worried about the events that were to come. "Dastan?" she asked again, this time with curiosity and nervousness. She had a faint idea as to why the boy was here, but she so desperately wanted that thought to be false. "Please tell me that what I am thinking right now is not what's going on. Please."

Dastan sighed and looked at the boy. "We should talk somewhere else," he murmured into her ear. She sighed, having her answer officially, but still, she agreed to talk somewhere else.

They walked into a little desolate room, hiding from the world. Dastan looked very worried, running his hands through his hair several times. Tamina only stared at him, not sure whether she should feel angry, or hurt, or confused, or sympathetic, or curious. "Do you want to tell me what is going on, or am I to infer on my own the current situation?" she asked, her slightly harsher than she had originally wanted it to be.

He sighed, running another hand through his hair before dropping it to his side. "Why don't we talk about this morning first?" he suggested. "That way we can resolve one conflict before possibly going into another."

The Princess looked at him warily. "Is that because you think that we are going to fight again, or are you being serious?"

He shrugged. "Both, probably."

"Alright, fine. What do you want to talk about then?" she said, seating herself in a dusty chair in the corner of the room and crossing her ankles and staring at him steadily.

"You were the one who wanted to talk to me first. Surely, you must have something to say," Dastan argued.

Tamina huffed. "I was going to say that I was sorry for the way I acted this morning. I didn't think about the impact my death must have had on you, and I should not have been as inconsiderate as I was. You weren't the one to make the decision about my life, and it should not be a burden that you have to carry. I know that that sounds cruel, but trust me Dastan," she said softly. "I am alive. You don't have to worry about that anymore. It is nothing but the past."

"But you and I both know that the past sometimes comes back. Because of our relationship in that other life, we have the one we do now."

"Having a relationship in another life is not the same as having one in the past, Dastan," Tamina interrupted.

"But in a way, it is," he said calmly. "That other life is behind us -"

"Exactly my point, Dastan -"

"And that makes it the past," he continued. "Which makes it a memory. Which makes it_ real_."

Tamina opened her mouth, but then stopped. She hadn't thought of it that way before. She looked down at her hands and twiddled her thumbs in embarrassment. She heard Dastan kneel down in front of her and his large hands engulfed her own small ones. He bent down lower to look into her eyes. "Tell me something," he said in an even softer voice than before, his eyes wide with sincerity. "If it had been me who had fallen." Tamina shivered at the thought. "would you not be angry with me for believing what you are suggesting?" Tamina gulped. She couldn't imagine losing Dastan like he had lost her.

She sighed and looked away from his eyes, tears already beginning to fill her own. "Why do you always have to be right?" she said defeatedly.

Dastan laughed, glad she could finally understand his constant worry as far as she was concerned. "Why do you always have to be so stubborn all of the time?" he retorted playfully.

She laughed too, feeling much better, like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders and she could finally breathe. Tamina did not arguing with Dastan. It hurt her more than she would have thought it would.

Finally, when their laughter subsided a little, she looked into his eyes, seeing happiness in them. "I'm sorry," she said slowly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her hand and looked her in the eye.

"Me too," he said gently before finally leaning up to kiss her just as gently. Her lips were slightly salty from the tears that had refused to stay inside their optical worlds, and quickly, he kissed those away, smiling when she would laugh as his beard tickled her cheek. "I love you," he said passionately, pulling away to look into her eyes.

She smiled joyfully. "I love you back," she returned. They sat there for a moment longer, enjoying that now, they finally resolved that rock in their shoe. Niether enjoyed fighting with the other, but knowing them, it had to happen eventually, and knowing them, it would probably happen again. No relationship was perfect, and even though both wanted theirs to be nothing but, they knew that that would never be the case. They were both too passionate about thier opinions, and both were too stubborn to conform easily to another way of thinking.

"Dastan?" she asked again for the third time that afternoon.

"Hmm?" he murmured, his nose currently in her hair and his eyes closed in tranquillity.

"Who was the little boy out in the chamber?" she asked. True, she wasn't sure if she actually wanted to know the answer to that question, but she knew that she had to. Tamina felt him stiffen around her before actually pulling away and looking away from her. "Dastan, please don't tell me what I think you are going to tell me." He didn't move. "Dastan! I understand that you love your father, and that you wish to be the epitome of him, but you have to understand that right now, that probably was not a very wise thing to do! You haven't even married me yet, and already you are making decisions that require two answers, not just one. You have to talk to me before you act so rash! What in the gods names were you thinking? Inviting a boy to live here with us as your son?"

"Not as my son," he interruped. "As a young boy who needs somewhere to sleep and a plate to eat off of. Not as my son," he repeated.

Tamina looked at him. "Dastan, that doesn't matter. The fact of the manner is, you invited a boy off the streets to live here in the palace without you even being a monarch here. That wasn't your decision to make. In fact, you should have no part in inducting children into this palace. I understand what you are trying to do, and I appreciate that, and I think that it is wonderful, but you can't do this without talking to me!"

"You already said that," he said simply, looking down and feeling ashamed.

"Because you never seem to undestand when it is in your place to say or do such things! When are you going to grow up and understand this?" she exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air.

"Tamina, please...let's not fight..." he said weakly, reaching for her, though she pulled away from him. He looked hurt.

"If you didn't want to fight, maybe you should have thought before you acted. Maybe then, you wouldn't be in this predicament!" she yelled before leaving the room and slamming the door loudly.

The boy stood there, outside in the same place she had left him.

"Turn out your pockets," she commanded, and boy was quick to do so, his pockets turning up empty. Tamina sighed and put her hand on her forehead. She stopped a maid in the hall. "Take him to the kitchens to eat. The poor boy is nothing but bones." The boy looked startled, as if he too wasn't expecting something so fortunate to happen to him. "Go before I change my mind," she said tiredly, and the boy scurried away with the maid who grabbed his hand.

She was going to kill Dastan.

* * *

**Okay, so there it is. Kinda happy with it, kinda not. It's difficult. Hope you guys aren't mad at me for making them argue again. But trust me, this is all part of my plan. I know what I'm doing. Trust me. **

**Sorry again for taking so long for the update, and hopefully, something this tragic will never happen EVER EVER again. **

**Please review! Even if you wanna tell me you hate me for taking so long to update, please feel free. I deserve it. *bows head in shame***

**Love you all lots!**


	10. In the Land of the Royals

***peeks head out from behind computer keyboard* Hi...everyone...Yes, I am here, and I am alive. No, I don't have an amazing excuse today. Only that my internet has died, and I have been trying to get through to you guys for weeks. I am sorry though. It is still not any kind of excuse, and I absolutely HATED being away from you all for so long. Seriously. I know you guys probably want to doubt that theory because of my absence, but I have been wanted to write for so long. First, it just seemed like a writer's block, but as soon as I got that inspiration once again, my internet unceremoniously DIED. It sucks. And this is probably the 20th time just trying to get to my document. Can you believe that? Gah! Not cool!**

**But the amazing thing is, I'm out of school at last. Got out on Friday. And I will be out for the next couple months! So, to make up for all of the delays, I am going to be updating every Saturday, (like I intended at the beginning of the year) and every Wednesday as well. So probably by the end of the month, we should be done with this story. :( But that is a long way off, so we won't think about that right now, shall we?**

_**IMPORTANT!** And I do not know if you have noticed, but we are nearing that magic 100 once again! Excitingness! So, remember, if you are the 100th reviewer, you will get a one-shot dedicated to you! You get to have me write about whatever you want, but remember, I don't write M one-shots. Not my thing. Sorry. Also, MAKE SURE YOU HAVE AN ACCOUNT AND MAKE SURE THAT I CAN MESSAGE YOU! It is a little difficult trying to get through to someone via update. Not to insult my last winner, nothingfeelsgood, but yeah. Please be a member._

**But here is this chapter that you have all be long awaiting. Hope you all like it!**

* * *

Ranin sat quietly in the kitchens, a silver spoon in his dirty hand, making it all seem out of place. He was filthy and rugged, and here he was in a kitchen larger than the size of his makeshift hut. He was holding a spoon that twinkled when the sun would hit it just right, almost illuminating the fact that he did not belong there.

He wasn't sure about everything that had happened to him so far. It was painstakingly clear that Princess Tamina was not enthralled by his presence, or at all jubilant by the fact of Prince Dastan's hospitality. Ranin understood her point of view, but all the same, he hoped that it would not land him back on the streets where he had been earlier. That would just be too much, he thought with a small sigh.

He smiled down into his bowl, a cool stew reflecting his dirt covered face, but Ranin decided not to pay any heed to those sad reflections. There was food before him. Food that was given to him, and he intended to eat it before the Princess made any other decisions about his lodgings.

The spoon dipped greedily into the bowl, scooping up a cube shaped piece of beef along with some dark broth. Excitedly, the young boy put the spoon into his mouth and let the juices of the meat and the flavor of the broth sink into his taste buds, lathering them in something so deliciously sweet and smooth, it made him sigh again and close his brown eyes in contentment. He chewed the meat for a moment, relishing in the fact that every time he bit down, more flavor would explode in his mouth, and more happiness would ensue. Then, once there was none left to chew, he swallowed the broth, allowing it to run smoothly and gently down his pourous throat.

Before Ranin knew it, the stew was gone, and for the first time in a long time, he felt satisfied and much less hungry. He burped loudly into the air, and then blushed when all of the cooks looked at him flabbergasted.

"Dastan, I just really wish that we could talk about things more before you immediately go making snap decisions. Especially something as serious as this! Adopting a child? Dastan, what were you thinking?" a womanly voice whispered, accompanied by the soft swishes of fabric. It was the Princess.

"I know, I know. But we can't turn the boy away now, Tamina. Didn't you see him? He can't have had any food for a week! His skin is drooping off of his bones! Becoming Prince over this land, and knowing the pains of abandonment, I will not let this boy die. Not if I can do anything about it. I intend to let him get back on his feet here. Maybe we could build an orphanage for these children!" another voice said, becoming more excited by the thought of an orphanage. It was Prince Dastan.

There was a sigh, and then the Princess continued, "I know what you are saying Dastan, and believe me, it makes my heart swell with pride to hear you talking about helping the little children of the city, but you have to understand that there are things that need to be done before that. Like actually becoming a lord of the city and marrying me! Can't you wait until then to make anymore snap decisions about such things? Please?" she asked nervously.

"I promise," Prince Dastan whispered, and the two came through the doorway, their hands held tightly. They both froze once they saw Ranin in there, still holding the silver spoon.

"I did not mean to eavesdrop, Your Majesties. You were simply there, and I overheard. Unintentionally, of course," Ranin paused, looking up at the shocked monarchs through his eyelashes. "I know that you do not wish me here, Your Highness," he spoke, addressing Tamina carefully and politely. "And if it is your wiish, I will leave. I won't even tell the other children of the meal that was given to me! I swear!" he said passionately.

Truthfully, he hoped and prayed to the gods that they would not send him away. But being strong and determined, he would leave if that was what was asked of him. And he would uphold the promise he just made to Princess Tamina, as well as the promise he made to Dastan in the streets. He would not steal. He would become an honorable man.

The Princess then, did something that was quite unexpected. She smiled softly and walked over to him, stroking his unkempt face like a mother would touch her child. "I will not send you away," she whispered softly and gently, her voice comforting him beyond belief. "One as young as you has experienced things that should not even enter the minds of children. You deserve to live as a child should, not as an adult. And as such, I believe that second to feeding you, you are in need of a bath and new garments." She smiled, and Ranin didn't even try to conceal his astonishment. He looked unbelieveably at the Prince, who seemed just as gobsmacked as he was.

"I can stay?" he asked in a voice just above a whisper, fearing that if he were too loud, he would change her mind. "Do you really mean that, Your Majesty?" he asked again, looking at her through large brown eyes.

The Princess nodded immediately. "The Prince invited you to stay, and I would be a terrible host should I decide not to uphold his offering of hospitality. And you are in need, and I have room for a child," she explained, smiling down at him thoughtfully and running her fingers through his unruly hair.

"Really?" he asked happily, smiling fully now and without fear. He would get to stay!

"Yes. Now, let us not delay your bath any longer. Come along," she said, pulling her hand away from his head and holding it out for him to take. Eagerly, he grasped her hand, suddenly feeling as if she was going to be a lifeline for him now, like a mother of sorts. He had never had a mother before.

"May I join you?" the Prince asked, his blue eyes sparkling in mischief and relief. The Princess nodded, and quickly, he walked up to join her at her side, kissing her cheek sweetly and then winking down at Ranin who chuckled and blushed.

They walked along the brightly lit corridors for a while climbing up one set of stairs, until they reached a wooden door that lay just next to a small garden. The Princess opened the door and walked through calmly, the Prince following them both inside.

It was a magnificent room. That was all that entered the mind of the nine year old boy. The bed was large and tall, covered in blankets of shining and shimmering blues and greens, along with five pillows that were decorated in a similar pattern. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to actually sleep on such things. It would ruin the beauty of it all.

Next to the bed, there was a small table, a light brown in color, and adorned with several books as well as a candle stick.

In the center of the room, there was a large, round red rug with golden specks that coiled around itself like a snake raps itself up to sleep. The rest of the floor was tile, cool and smooth to his calloused feet.

Up against the wall, next to the door, there was an even larger closet, more like a wardrobe. The wood matched that of the bed side table, and the knobs that opened it were even more intricate than even imaginable. It was beautiful, and it made him anxious to see what kind of clothes their Highnesses had in their possession.

There was even a balcony! His eyes quickly locked on the spot, cream colored curtains swaying peacefully as the wind blew through them. There was even a small chair out on the ledge, most likely for reading and relaxing in the sun. Oh, what luxeries they had!

Just to the right, there was another door, smaller than the bedroom door, and much less decorated, but still beautiful all the same. The Prince and Princess walked to that door and held it open for Ranin, smiling encouragingly at him, the Prince even nodding.

Ranin walked into the small room, and quickly noticed it was a bathroom. The tub was round and shining, already filled to the brim with water and bubbles, making him smile happily. There was a small, plush rug outside of the tub, meant to absorb any water droplets that would try to escape the tub. Across from the tub, there was a long, oval mirror, clean and sparkling. When Ranin looked in it, he prayed that he would not look so disheveled ever again. Prince Dastan had been right. His skin_ was _hanging off his bones. His own relflection scared him, but he couldn't stop looking. However, the Princess seemed to catch on to that fact rather quickly.

"We rested clothes there for you," she said kindly, pointing to a small shelf that held a pair of clothes for him. "Do you need any help washing yourself? Or are you capable of doing this on your own?" she asked.

Ranin's eyes filled up with tears as a new thought entered his young and troubled mind. "I have only taken three baths in my life. My parents couldn't afford a water basin..." he said, his throat clenching up at the thought of his parents.

Prince Dastan sighed. "Don't worry, Ranin. There is a servant who should be here any moment to help you. Tamina and I will just wait outside for you. But, while you are waiting, do get undressed and get into the water. Try not to get too much on the floor, but don't worry if you do. We can always have it cleaned," he said quickly, walking over to ruffle his hair.

Ranin nodded, and watched them usher themselves out. Then, he turned to the basin and began undressing, taking off the grimy, sweatly clothes that he had grown to loathe.

Gently, he lowered himself into the tub, careful not to get a single droplet of water on the tile. The water was warm, but it seemed to scald all of the street muck right off of him, though he knew that it was no where near gone yet. He looked around the shelves of the tub, seeing many different bottle of many different concoctions, all apparently to make someone clean and pleasant smelling once again.

Then he glanced down at the bubbles. He had never been bathed in bubbles before, and he was actually rather excited by the prospect. Carefully, he scooped up some of the bubbles and stared at them curiously. He sniffed at them and found them to smell nice, like a flower he supposed. Some popped in his hand when he touched them, to which he smiled at playfully. Now, with an even more brilliant idea, he scooped more bubbles up with his other hand and stared at the two, evaluating how this experiment could end up. He smiled devilishly at his hands, and without waiting any furhter, clapped them together, popping them all or pushing them to the outside of his hands. Again he smiled, even sniggered at the new game he had discovered. He turned his hands over and stared at the surviving bubbles and blew them, surprised to see them float off of his hand and even up through the air for a moment before they came soaring back down and into the mass of bubbles. He sniggered once more, and picked up a solitary bubble and blew it into the air. When it came within reach again, he clapped his hands around it, hearing a small _pop _in response. Now, he laughed at his genius and continued playing the game until all of the bubbles in the water were gone.

The maid the Prince had spoken of arrived as soon as the bubbles were gone, and smiled at him when she saw him staring at her from out of the tub. She was old, but there was no mistaking the sweet gentle twinkle in her brown eyes.

"My sons liked playing with the bubbles too when they were younger," she said softly and kneeled down on her knees in front of the basin. "Now, I understand that you haven't had a bath in a while?" she asked in a grandmotherly way.

Ranin shook his head, suddenly very shy and unwilling to talk.

"Well, then we are going to get you all clean, now aren't we?" she asked. Then, without further ado, she reached up and grabbed a bottle of gel and squeezed it into her hand. She showed her palm to Ranin who looked at it warily. "This soap cleans your hair and makes it smell nice." Then, she scooped up some water and sprinkled it onto the soap and rubbed her hands together. Then her hands attacked his head and began massaging the gel into a later, creating more bubbles, he couldn't help but notice.

Soon enough, he was entirely clean, and the lady helped him out of the tub, draping him in a soft and clean towel. She dried him all off and then preceded to help him into his new clothes, which was a nightgown of sorts it seemed. They too smelt lovely and they felt clean and fresh as they brushed his clean skin. He felt like new.

"I want to look at myself in the mirror, please," he said shyly. The old lady laughed happily and pulled him to the mirror, resting her hands on his shoulders.

He didn't even recognize himself. All of the dirt and grime had disappeared from his face as if by magic, and his hair was shining and his clothes didn't have one hole in them. He was very impressed with what the old lady had done to him.

"You look very handsome," she commented softly, patting his shoulder affectionately. Ranin smiled wide in response and turned to look at her. Her brown eyes were sparkling happily.

"Thank you very much for helping me," he whispered bashfully. "I'm Ranin," he introduced himself. He figured that she had a right to know who he was. She smiled happily in return.

"It's very nice to meet you," she responded. "My name is Miandre, but you may call me Mia, little one. Now come, the Prince and Princess are very anxious to see you!" she continued. She opened the door to the bedroom, and Ranin walked through nervously, anxious to to hear what his caretakers thought of him now that he was clean.

They both sat on the bed, the Prince's hand held loosely in the lap of the Princess, and both seemed to be in a light discussion when the door opened. Both turned their heads to look at the little boy and both smiled softly.

"Better?" the Prince asked kindly.

Ranin nodded appreciatively. "Much. I think I like being clean," he said slowly.

"I am glad to hear it," Princess Tamina replied calmly. "You look well," she said.

"I feel well," he told her, happy to see her smile. He didn't understand how she ended up being as acceptful as she was now, but he was grateful for that all the same. The Prince most likely talked to her more about his staying here, and he prevailed. Or maybe she was just pretending to be welcoming. She still probably did not want him living there, but she would at least pretend to be cordial.

The Princess looked out the window, seeing the sun beginning to set. "I believe that it is time to sleep. Dastan and I will leave you to it," she told him, almost with a hint of warning in her voice. He could tell that she was saying not to run away with any of her things in the night, and he knew that he would do nothing to break her trust. Not after everything that she had done for him.

"Leave me to it? Where am I to sleep? Are these not your quarters?" he asked, suddenly curious. This room was fit for a monarch, not for a street rat.

"Ranin, we do not sleep here. Tamina and I picked this room especially for you. It is yours. There is a small book shelf there if you enjoy reading before you sleep," The Prince said, making Ranin's eyes almost pop out of his head. He was to sleep here! In this extravagant room! Just for him!

"For me?" he asked, making the Prince roll his eyes.

"Yes, for you. Now, I will give you a proper tour of the palace in the morning, but for the night, don't wander around. You'll get lost. Gods know we don't want you encountering one of my brothers. They are probably suspicious why we didn't attend dinner tonight, Tamina," he commented, turning to look at his fiancee.

She only shrugged. "They will understand, I'm sure. At breakfast we can tell them all about it," she said. "Miandre will get you up in the morning should you sleep in," she said. "Sleep well," she finished. She smiled at him softly and then left the room, the maid, Mia, following her after giving him a soft and warm smile.

"She doesn't want me here, does she?" Ranin asked.

"I wouldn't say that. Tamina has difficulty getting accomstomed to people is all. In fact, she hated me when we first met," he said cheekily.

"You invaded the city. Were you expecting roses?" Ranin asked curiously. He didn't know why, but he seemed to feel more safe and comfotable around the Prince. Yes, he liked everyone he had met so far, but there was something about the Prince that made him feel at home and carefree.

The Prince laughed heartily. "No, I suppose you are right," he said after a moment. "But now, you must sleep. Long day tomorrow, I am sure, so you need to rest," he said, pulling back the covers of the bed.

Ranin climbed in and felt warm and cozy underneath the covers. Deserts were hot during the day, but in the night, they were cold and sometimes heartless, so having warm covers was always envied. And now, Ranin didn't have any reason to envy anymore. He was living it.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said politely.

"My name is Dastan, Ranin. You may call me that instead," he said, walking to the balcony and shutting the glass doors to prevent mosquitos from coming inside.

"Sorry," Ranin quickly commented.

The Prince chuckled in response. "Just go to sleep," he said, coming over to Ranin and ruffling his hair.

Ranin nodded and laid down, his head sinking into the softness of the pillows. Prince Dastan smiled and walked out the door, grabbing the door handle and looking at him. "Would you like the door open? Or closed?" he asked.

"Closed," he replied without thinking. Prince Dastan nodded. It would be a long time before he would be able to trust the world at night enough to leave his bedroom door open. The Prince seemed to understand this too, as he did not ask about it.

"Good night," he said, and closed the door.

Ranin smiled. Then, with weariness, he closed his eyes and sleep quickly overtook him, leaving him nothing but pleasant and happy dreams.

* * *

**I know, we all really wanted to get some more attention from Tamina and Dastan, especially since it is apparent that they made up (thought I would treat you guys a little bit here because of my disappearance), but I thought I would try to do a little character developement on Ranin here. He is so cute! I loved writing that whole bubble scene, by the way. **

**Haha, I hope I didn't sound too OC with these guys, at least with Tamina and Dastan. I tried. Next chapter will be more centered around them soo... hopefully less OC if they were OC at all, and I would surely hope not. I think I need to watch the movie again.**

**Oh, and Miandre is mine. Mee-awn-dray. Rather liked her a lot. Don't know if she's gonna be a key character, but I thought that we needed to have a servant to help little Ranin out. **

**Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. And I won't have a delay like that again soooo...yeah...yay on that front, right?**

**REMEMBER, REVIEWER 100 GETS A ONE-SHOT, SO LEAVE A REVIEW ON YOUR WAY OUT! **

**Love you all lots - Books**


	11. Let's Not Fight Anymore

***peeks head out from behind keyboard* So…Hi, everyone. I know, I know, you all are thinking, "Where the hell have you been?" and I have been asking myself the same question. I hate making promises to you guys that I can't keep, so I think that I am just going to stop making promises if I don't know if I can keep them. It makes me angry when I do that, and I am sorry that it is you guys who have to suffer.**

**So, new chapter. I am not giving up this story, because I do love it, and I have a lot of ideas for where this is gonna go. In fact, I think that I have finally figured out the plotline, which is gonna be introduced at the very end of this chapter. Family/romance drama is nice only for so long.**

**And just to make up for my laziness, (I do have a couple reasons that don't really excuse my behavior, but I won't bore you with those unless you message me and actually want to know the boring details of my life) I have decided to put extra fluff in here. Lots of Dastamina stuff…and a little bit of Garsiv/OC…hmm, what's going on there, right?**

**But! Here we are! **_**Let's not fight anymore…**_

* * *

The wind gently whistled into Tamina's chambers, and she snuggled further into her pillow, trying desperately to cling to her dreams. Because she knew that as soon as she would open her brown eyes, her paradise would wash away, and she would be left with the troubles that had plagued her yesterday. She wanted to ignore everything and just be happy. But another brush of wind seemed to deny her this privilege, and she slowly opened her eyes, groaning in frustration.

Last night had been terrible. Sleep had seemed impossible, and this morning clearly showcased the fact. Her muscles were slightly sore, and her eyes burned. Just when she had been able to sleep, morning tugged at her, coaxing her back into consciousness.

Tamina flipped over in her bed, turning her back on the sun, looking at the empty side of the bed.

Dastan had not slept with her last night. Apparently, the fight (or fights) they had had the night before had put too much of a strain on them, and had both decided that sleeping together was not a good idea. Of course, they had not rested the blame on the fight, instead claiming that it was inappropriate seeing as how they were not married and that anyone could catch them at any time during the night. It had been an awkward conversation, to say the least - Dastan avoiding looking at her, her looking down at her feet and mumbling her agreement. She remembered that when she had finally chanced a glance into his blue eyes, she had seen a glimpse of hurt, but he had brushed it away, giving a nod of finality and walking away, running a hand through his hair roughly. He hadn't even given her a kiss goodnight, or told her that he loved her. And that had hurt her, tears coming to her eyes now just thinking about it. But what was worse, she hadn't done anything to stop him.

And she paid dearly for it. Three times during the night, she had gotten out of her bed and thrown her robe on, determined to talk to her fiancé. She had trekked all the way to his door, raising her little fist all three times to knock, only to stop and sigh to herself. Ten minutes would go by, and she would finally give up, turning back and walking to her room, more distressed than she had been before. She longed to feel his arms around her small form. It made her feel safe and loved. The beating of his heart against her back lulling her asleep, his deep breathing making her neck tingle. Just the feeling of him against her would have been enough. But she had been too scared to go to him and admit it. So, she spent most of the night pacing around in her room, reading little books, crying.

Tamina glanced at the clock, frowning when she saw that it was seven in the morning. Her stomach gurgled, and she gave a loud sigh of discontent, grabbing her belly, trying to silence it. The last thing she wanted to do was get out of the bed and finalize the fact that would not get back to sleep.

Tamina moved herself closer to the other side of the bed, where Dastan had slept. She buried her nose in his pillow, faintly smelling his masculine scent. It was hot like the desert and with a touch of fruit. And combined with that smell that could only be described as him. It coated her nose and made her feel a little more whole inside. Eagerly, she buried herself in the scent, wanting anything left of him to cover her. She closed her eyes, imagining the blankets around her to be those strong arms, and the pillow under her head his rising and falling chest. And finally, Sleep found her worthy of rest.

* * *

Dastan sat up, punching his pillow with all the force he could. In the recesses of his mind, he could have sworn that he heard the sadistic, mocking laugh from Sleep. It seemed to tease him all throughout the night, allowing him to reach the brink of slumber, only to snatch it away a moment later. It was all a big game.

His tired mind only repeated one thing: he hated fighting with Tamina. He couldn't blame her solely for his lack of sleep, but she certainly contributed. He kept replaying the day through his mind, thinking of all of the things that he could have said, or the things that he could have changed. To think that yesterday had started out so wonderful, only to have it morph into a monster. He didn't enjoy fighting period, but he despised when it was with her. Every time he raised his voice at her, it felt like he was raising his voice to a piece of himself. Dastan realized that he had lost much of his manliness when he fell as hard for her as he did. And he knew that sometimes, if he were to say the words running through his head, his brothers would surely make fun of him. But right now, he couldn't care less. He had given his heart to that woman, and arguing with her hurt him just as much as it hurt her. It almost made him more angry, but with that anger, he didn't know what to do with it. He couldn't take it out on her, and his brothers and father didn't deserve it. So, his pillow seemed to be the best way to expel his frustration.

Dastan couldn't help but wonder if Tamina had slept. Had she gone through the turmoil that he had? Or did he have enough depression for the both of them? He always knew that he was more romantic out of the two of them, but that had never bothered him much. However now, he would have appreciated it to know that she was suffering at least a little bit like he was. The Prince wanted to be important to his Princess, but sometimes when she would look at him, it was almost as if she wasn't seeing a lover. It was like she was seeing a Persian or a diplomat.

The Prince couldn't stand it any longer. He would swallow his God-awful pride and go to see her.

He threw his blankets off of his weary figure, lowering his warm feet on the floor, flinching at the temperature. Dastan stood and quickly changed into appropriate clothing and tied up his boots. He left his room in a hurry, walking briskly to her chambers. Once he arrived at her door, he considered knocking, but decided against it, not wanting to wake her if she was indeed sleeping.

Dastan pushed the door open, calmed at the sight of Tamina curled into the side of the bed he had slept on. Her face was buried in the pillow, and she was covered in her blankets, only her head sticking out. She looked so beautiful sleeping there, so small, so relaxed. He approached her side slowly, kneeling down in front of her. He marveled at her face, her alluring brown eyes hidden behind her lids, a small piece of ebony hair falling on her small nose. Her plump pink lips smiling slightly, and tiny brown freckles under her eyes. He leaned in, his face inches from hers, and he inhaled deeply, smelling her flowery scent. And buried underneath the flowers, he could smell wine, so very unique, with its own flavor. She was one of those wines that did not need an entrée or a dessert. She had her own character. And she was perfect. Even when she wasn't.

Dastan gently reached up and brushed the rebellious hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her cheek was so smooth and soft under his finger, he couldn't deny himself the urge to stroke her face. He smiled slightly when she leaned into his hand, yearning for his touch. It made him feel lucky. Because he knew that no one else would be able to get a reaction like that out of her. At least her body still loved him.

Tamina's eyelids fluttered, and soon, they opened to reveal the warm brown that he had come to adore. She simply stared at him for a minute, neither of them talking, just staring. He didn't stop stroking her cheek, and he was thrilled to notice that she made no moves to stop him.

"Did you sleep?" he finally whispered. The moment was so precious, and he didn't want to ruin it by speaking loudly.

She sighed. "For a little while," she whispered back, closing her eyes and leaning further into his hand.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, feeling bad.

"I needed to be woken," she told him.

Dastan sat there for a moment, kicking himself. She hadn't slept either, and he had just come into her room and woke her up right when she had gotten to sleep. "I'm sorry."

Tamina smiled softly, still not opening her eyes. "You seem to be saying that a lot lately, Prince."

Dastan smiled as well. "Only because there seems to be much to apologize for, Princess."

They fell back into silence, but it was comfortable and serene. He finally felt as if he could sleep, even if it was on the floor. But he felt relieved to know that everything was going to be alright. He just knew that it would.

"Dastan?" she finally whispered, opening her eyes to look at him again.

"Tamina?" he responded.

"Will you…Never mind."

Dastan smiled and put his nose up against hers. "What?" he breathed.

"Nothing. It's not important," she rushed, blushing at their closeness.

The Prince heartily laughed. "Princess, anything that you think of and actually begin to say must definitely be important. Otherwise, you wouldn't have thought about it. Now tell me," he urged.

Tamina bit her bottom lip nervously before vigorously shaking her head. "You would think me silly," she told him, shifting uncomfortably in the bed.

Dastan laughed again. "Tamina, I already think you silly for not telling me. And you've piqued my curiosity, so now, whatever it was that you wanted to say cannot be left unsaid."

Tamina stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, dramatically teasing him, and he knew it. "Well, the moment is gone now, so whatever it was that I had to say no longer has any meaning."

He frowned for a moment, pondering what it was that she have wanted to say to him. So, he would try another approach. Dastan pretended to be passive, and he reached out and stroked her face again, begging her with his blue eyes to tell him. "Please?" he whispered so softly, even with their closeness, Tamina wasn't sure that she had heard him correctly.

She looked down at his hand gently touching her face. She mumbled something under her breath, earning a raised eyebrow from Dastan. He hadn't heard her. "I…" she started. "I didn't sleep well last night," she told him, avoiding the subject.

Dastan smiled softly. He noticed her subject change, but decided not to comment on it. "Neither did I."

Her eyes widened a little. "Why?" she rushed. Had he been just as upset over their fights yesterday as she was? Did he regret yesterday like her?

Dastan gave her that smile again - the smile that made a shiver tingle down her spine and her mouth go suddenly dry. That was her smile. "I came to a realization this morning when the sun started to come up," he murmured. "I hate fighting with you. I don't really know if I got to tell you how much I was sorry for everything that happened yesterday, Tamina. You were right about everything, as you usually are, and I was stubborn as I usually am. I should have known that inviting another conflict when the first one hadn't even been resolved was a wrong decision. I shouldn't have asked a child to come and live with us when this isn't even my home. I just saw him, all scrawny and hungry, and I couldn't help myself. I saw myself as a child when I looked at him, and I couldn't let the moment pass me by. But I should have waited. I should have come to you and talked about everything before even considering the boy. But I was selfish and inconsiderate. I'm sorry, Tamina. I don't want to fight with you, but whenever it happens I -"

His fiancée raised a finger to his lips, shushing him effectively. "We both were being stubborn and selfish, Dastan. If I hadn't been so arrogant in my ways at breakfast, maybe none of this would have happened. I shouldn't have assumed that you were emotionally healed from the other world. It was me who was being inconsiderate. And as for the boy…Ranin…I understand. I think it was very noble and generous of you to want to save a life. It is part of the reason why I love you. But, at least from now on, we really need to focus on talking about things before we act out on them."

Dastan quickly nodded, leaning up to tenderly kiss her forehead, smiling against her skin when he heard her emit a soft sigh at his touch. "So you still love me?" he asked cheekily.

Tamina smiled at him, cupping his face in her hand. "I still love you, you stupid man. Do you still love me?"

Dastan chuckled at his new title, but leaned into her hand anyways. "I still love you, you silly woman." He leaned in again, this time gently pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled away, she smiled fully.

"Do you want to know what it was that I was going to say?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Always," he whispered, kissing her again.

"Will you hold me?" Tamina blushed only a little at her words. She had never been overly romantic, thinking that the romantic tendencies that Dastan had was plenty for the both of them, but now, in front of him, and knowing that they were still together made her unashamed of her question. She loved him, even when she hated him, and Tamina knew that the perfect way to shut away the argument was to have his arms holding her. To _feel _that everything was going to be alright between them. That was all she needed.

Her Prince quickly tore his boots off and climbed into the bed with her, tightly wrapping his arms around her and pulling her chest up against his and resting his forehead against hers. "I've been waiting for you to ask that question ever since I walked in here. But I do have a question for you."

"Yes, Prince?" she replied.

"Can we please, please, please try to get some sleep?" he begged, sticking his bottom lip out for effect.

Tamina nodded firmly. "I would be most thrilled to grant you permission to sleep."

"Well, I was just trying to be courteous in asking you, but I wasn't really looking for permission. I was going to sleep here with you whether you were going to let me or not," he said cheekily.

"Well, it's nice to know that you were polite up to a point. Just next time, you should know that telling me that, you should know that it doesn't really help my opinion of you," she retorted.

"Yes, but you already told me you loved me, and you can't take that back," he grumbled.

"Maybe I could just stop saying it, then?"

"I love you."

"I love you too," she replied without thinking, then sighed in disapproval with herself.

"Yeah, that plan isn't going to work out for you. Nice try though. Now, go to sleep, Princess."

* * *

Garsiv had never slept so peacefully before in his life. Or at least, that was what he had convinced himself. It had been so perfect, more perfect than any of the times he had laid with one of his wives. He had always considered himself fairly satisfied in the mornings after late night activities, but after experiencing last night, he couldn't believe that he had missed out on sex as much as he had.

The woman at his side was everything his wives weren't, especially when it came to her bedtime skills. Instead of the common black hair that everyone seemed to have, her hair was a light, dusty brown, and it was short and framed her face like an angel's, barely touching her small shoulders. Her skin wasn't nearly as dark, either - more like a moon and all of its ethereal glow. Her red lips were closed now, a small smile making her look even more peaceful. Maybe she was dreaming of him. And her eyes! Oh, they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever gazed into in his life! So uncommon, so unique, so perfect, he thought smiling. Green. He had never actually seen green eyes before, but that's what they were. Green, with small little specks of gold hidden in them. So big and full and curious and naïve. She was short, he had noticed, her thin body fitting between his chin and his ankles. But that was perfect. It made him feel like he could protect her all the more, like he could cover her entire body with his own. Her voice had been melodic, but low, easily seducing him. And her name! Oh, her precious, precious name. Isobel…it even sounded like a bell when he let it roll off of his tongue. She was the most beautiful creature that he had ever laid his eyes on, and he didn't deny that having her as one of his wives would be the most perfect thing that could happen. He would never have to take another wife. She would be the one different from all of the others.

"Hmm…" she moaned, snuggling into his embrace more and letting out a contented sigh before her breathing evened out again.

Garsiv felt compelled to learn everything there was to know about this woman, where she was born, who her parents were, if she had siblings, what her hobbies were, what her favorite food was, favorite book, if she was skilled in any type of combat, if she could speak other languages, everything! He would drink in all of the knowledge, and he knew that he would only want more. But for the moment, just her being tucked away in his arms would have to be enough. He would learn everything else in time. And he would be more than willing to tell her all about himself.

He stared at her for a little while longer, completely absorbed in drinking in her image. Every dusting of freckles, he wanted to reach out and brush with the pad of his thumb, every time her tongue would sweep her bottom lip, he would follow it, every rustling of the sheets to snuggle closer to him. He had never done this with a his wives before. He had never felt the urge to just stare at their sleeping forms. He would sneak out of bed and go along on his day. But now, all Garsiv wanted to do was never leave his room, sharing the entire day with Isobel.

"You have a very penetrating stare, did you know?" she mumbled, her breath gliding across his bare chest in the most teasing manner.

Garsiv smiled and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. "Well, your face deserves my full, undivided attention," he said calmly, like it was the most simplest answer in the world. And it really was.

Isobel pulled away from him and stared into his eyes, a small smirk on her lips and a mischievous look in those captivating green eyes. "Just my face?" she teased.

"It's the only part of you that I can see, so…for now, yes. Just your face. But…if you wanted…we could change that…" he purred, his lips locking onto a very red mark on her neck.

"You shall hear no disagreement from me, Your Highness," she said seductively.

Ah, yes, Garsiv thought. The perfect morning following the perfect night.

* * *

The door rattled against someone's fist loudly, and both Dastan and Tamina groaned in response, clinging tighter to the other and trying to pretend that the knocking was a figment of their imagination. When the knocking refused to cease, Dastan grunted and pulled the covers over both of their heads.

"If we don't answer, maybe they'll leave," he whispered.

"It sounds urgent," Tamina replied, sighing in disappointment. She reached to grab the covers, but Dastan quickly grabbed her and refused to let her leave the bed.

"My morning with you is more urgent. Whoever it is can wait until breakfast," he affirmed, burying his face in her neck and tightening his grip when she tried to break free.

Tamina sighed and stopped struggling, both of them waiting in silence until finally, they heard footsteps growing fainter, and the knocking stopped.

Tamina looked at her Prince, his perfect black hair disheveled and his crystal blue eyes confirming his absolute joy over the knocker's departure. "I told you they'd leave," he told her, kissing her jaw.

"Yes, but now what are we going to do? We slept long enough, so no more sleep," she told him, chuckling when she saw him pout. It really was cute, his bottom lip sticking out, and his already large eyes growing more as he begged, much like a little dog. "That face is not going to work on me."

"But it's such a good face," he teased.

"_You _think it's a good face," she told him.

"Oh, Princess, don't tell me that you are resisting my ever-so-perfect-charm," he faked hurt.

"I'm resisting your 'ever-so-perfect-charm'," she said simply, earning a rather forceful bump from the Prince. She knew that he was playing, so she rammed her side into his, barely making any impact on his position in her bed. His smirk doubled in size, and he bumped her again, earning a glare from her while he only looked at her challengingly. Knowing that she wasn't going to be able to move him, she smacked him hard on the arm, only to have him respond with pinching her side, right where she was ticklish. "Dastan, no."

He paused for a very brief moment before replying, "Tamina, yes." He squeezed her side again, making her involuntarily giggle. She tried desperately to push his hands away from her, but he was just too strong, and in no time at all, she was laughing loudly with her limbs thrashing in failed attempts to get away.

Eventually, he immobilized her by wrapping his arms completely around her middle, keeping her arms at her sides, and he wrapped his legs around hers to stop her legs from their escape. "You're mine," he whispered rather low in her ear, nuzzling her neck.

Tamina completely froze, not knowing what to do with herself. Somewhere in her gut, she felt a very dull ache, and though she suspected she knew the name, she denied it and blushed, elbowing him in the gut hard enough to make him let her go. She had never really felt that before, and it scared her half to death. Tamina stood up immediately, all playfulness in her eyes gone as she stared at him. She wasn't ready for something like that. She knew that sooner or later, they would have their wedding night, but today wasn't her wedding night. She had heard of the pain, and of course, there was the undeniable fact that she would indeed belong to Dastan after that.

"Tamina?" he asked concerned and confused, sitting up and reaching for her hands, but she quickly stepped backwards, folding her hands behind her back. Suddenly, realization dawned on his face, and he pulled his hands back down to his lap, not wanting to scare her further. He could have sworn that there were times that she was like a doe: you had to step slowly and carefully, or she would run if you got too close too fast. "Tamina, you know that I wasn't insinuating that we…right now…I'm sorry," he told her genuinely. "I wasn't thinking. I was just…playing. We both aren't ready for…that. We'll go at our own pace. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Tamina stared at him for a while, looking down at the tile floor. He _had _scared her, but she had scared _herself. _She actually felt like she wanted to…Like she wanted…

Dastan slowly stood from her bed, making sure that she could see his intent. He wasn't trying to scare her right now. He wasn't going to do anything to her right now. He wouldn't do anything like that to her without her permission. She was sure of that. She was even sure that he would postpone their wedding night if it made her feel better. Dastan wasn't the kind of man that wouldn't care about her wishes.

"Can I…?" he held his hand out for her, and uneasily, she placed her palm in his. He gently placed a kiss on it. "Don't worry. I'm not ready either. We'll go slow. For both of us. I wouldn't use you like that, Tamina."

She nodded, leaning into his embrace, Dastan's arms cautiously wrapping around her. "I trust you," she whispered.

The knocking came back at her door, and this time, it was louder and more demanding. "I know you're in there, damn it!" they heard, realizing that it was actually Tus who was the one hitting the door. "Dastan, open this door! I know you're in there!"

"Guess we can't ignore him anymore, can we?" Dastan teased, briefly kissing her head before walking to the door, opening it for his brother, who barged right in and slammed the door behind him. "Would you like to come in, Tus? You weren't interrupting our morning at all, was he, Tamina?" he joked, but when he saw the look on his brother's face, he stopped, knowing that now was not the time for jesting. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I'm not exactly an expert on all of this time thing, but I would imagine that if the knife got stolen, there would be some reasoning behind my panicking!"

Tamina froze, her eyes widening. No, no, no, no! This wasn't supposed to be happening! Everything was going to be perfect! Nothing was supposed to happen! Not now! Not when everything had been fixed!

"What?" Dastan uttered, his face pale and scared. He prayed to the gods that he had heard his brother wrong.

"The Dagger is gone."

* * *

**So, some of you may have been expecting and/or hoping for some Ranin stuff in this chapter, and I was honestly intending to put some in. I actually wanted to start the chapter off with him, but I kinda hit a dead end and started over.**

**Also, I am happy to announce that we have our 100****th**** reviewer winner! VeronicaD13! I have already been told what to write for the little one-shot, and I am preparing on uploading that soon. It's a great idea, and I'm sure that everyone else is really going to like it. Remember that I do this every 100 reviews, so there are (hopefully) plenty of chances for you guys to get your own one-shots! :D Congrats again! The one-shot is called The Birthday Boy, so go and check it out! It's pretty cute, if I do say so myself.**

**If there are any people still left with this story, it would be nice to have a review, but I totally get it if I get like…none. **

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	12. Time for a Conspiracy

**So, uh, hi. Well, it's Spring Break over here, and I just thought that I would go ahead and post another chapter for you guys. And of course, whenever there is a break in school, that is the perfect time for me to get sick, so I had nothing better to do anyway. I might even update twice this week or something if I'm not on my deathbed! But that's not a promise, that's just me thinking out loud. But in all likelihood, I would wager that there will be at least one more chapter from me this week. All of the reviews I have been getting really motivated me this time around, including the one today from **katnip. **I hope that you guys like this chapter. I know I enjoyed writing it.**

* * *

The next few hours had gone by as nothing but a blur. As soon as the words had left Tus's mouth, her whole body and mind had shut down, rejecting reality. She knew that she wasn't able to make her indifference last for forever, but she was determined to at least make it through that breakfast.

However, it didn't help that she was the only real knowledgeable one when it came to the Dagger. And it most certainly help when the brothers and the father were pestering her with questions every thirty seconds or so. She was expected to have all of the answers, wasn't she? She was supposed to remain cool and collected and know exactly how to proceed. She was supposed to be able to magically pull the name of the thief from the air and know exactly where the thief was. But she was no magician. She was just as clueless as everyone around her. She didn't know where to start. She didn't know who stole the Dagger, and she didn't know how she was planning on getting it back. The Dagger had never been stolen before. No one was even supposed to know that the weapon even existed. And yet, here she was, put in the same, wretched position all over again.

One would think that because she had just finished fixing a similar situation, she would know what to do in this case. She didn't. And she was getting more and more scared as the seconds ticked by and as the Dagger was carried further and further away from her reach.

Dastan seemed to be the only one to understand, but that couldn't settle her very much. He was bombarded with just as many questions, and due to her unnatural silence in the crisis, all of the questions had be redirected to him.

She didn't like doing that to Dastan; she really didn't.

"Who else knows about the Dagger, Tamina?" a voice drifted into her ear, though she couldn't identify who it was who had spoken.

Why did the gods do this to her? Did that sincerely find pleasure in tearing her world apart and allowing it to fall into ruin? What had she done to deserve this? What had her people done to deserve this?

"Tamina?" she heard again. "Tamina for once, speak, woman!" the voice shouted.

"Don't talk to her like that, Garsiv. She is just as clueless as the rest of us, and you have no right to talk to her that way. She's in shock," she heard another voice respond. She presumed that it was Dastan, the only one who actually was trying to shield her from the pain the ordeal was causing her.

Tamina blinked, the world suddenly coming into focus around her, reality blinding her temporarily. This wasn't a dream. It was truly happening. And regardless of the fact that she had no idea where to start, she did have an obligation as the Guardian of the Dagger. It was her job to protect it and to get it back, no matter the cost. That was her charge, and she was determined to retrieve it.

"Dastan, Garsiv is right. I am its protector, and it is my duty to get it back," she said calmly. She knew that Dastan was not going to be especially pleased with her narrow-minded attitude, but at the moment, her fiancé's concerns were not what were important. "But before we charge into anything irrationally, we need to first figure out who stole the Dagger. We need to speak with the guards and see if they saw anyone suspicious leave the city within the last twenty-four hours. For surely, it has not been gone longer than that. Has anyone already spoken with the guards surrounding the temple?" she asked, taking control of the situation. The brown eyes that Dastan had fallen in love with were devoid of any warmth. They were strictly business and piercing.

Tus bit his lip nervously and began moving his prayer beads around in his hands with a newfound fervor. He avoided her gaze and looked down at the empty, golden plate in front of him.

"Tus," Tamina stated, becoming slightly nervous with his closed up behavior. "You have spoken with the temple guards, correct?" she asked, studying him very carefully.

"I would have," Tus murmured.

"What does that mean?" Garsiv asked harshly, staring at his brother with hard brown eyes. His morning, which had started so blissfully perfect was now being ruined. He had had so many plans to execute with his new muse, and now, it was never going to happen. He was just a tad angry with the way things had gone that morning, and he was determined to let everyone know his anger.

"Tus?" Sharaman asked, leaning forward in his seat and looking worriedly at his oldest son. "What is it that you are not telling us?"

The room grew deathly quiet as they all looked at Persia's heir. "They're dead. All of them. Throats slashed. I didn't get there in time," he finally said, looking down. "No living witnesses."

Dastan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with distaste. Just perfect. Of course, all of the possible witnesses would be dead. Somehow, he couldn't believe that he had actually thought that they would be alive. If they had, the Dagger wouldn't have been stolen in the first place. Yet, it still was disturbing to know that there really was no hope.

"Maybe the castle guards saw someone leave," Tamina suggested. "The thief had to have escaped somehow, and even if they did kill a guard, that just points us in the direction that they went."

"And if the guards saw nothing?" Dastan replied pessimistically. Tamina glared at him, and he found himself glaring back unflinchingly. "What then for your theory?"

"Then they may yet be inside of the palace as we speak," Tamina told him testily.

Dastan's eyes narrowed considerably. He did not like the look that she was giving him. It was as if she was hinting something dreadful, and he wasn't going to stand for it. "If you are insinuating that _Ranin _stole the Dagger, then you are going to have to offer me hard proof before I can accept something as outlandish and ridiculous as that."

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" Garsiv said testily, standing from his seat. "Where is the boy? We'll see if he has it in him to steal." "That _boy _has a name, Garsiv. And he could not have taken the Dagger. He does not even know that it exists!" Dastan snarled, rising to his own feet and glaring at his brother.

Garsiv laughed cruelly. "That boy has you so wound up around his finger that he could get you to believe that he didn't kill his parents with their blood on his hands."

"Shut your filthy mouth, Garsiv," Dastan snapped. "You do never mock a child without parents. You don't know what it's like. Just shut your mouth before I shut it for you!"

"Stop it!" Tus exclaimed, coming and standing between his two brothers. He roughly pushed Garsiv three feet away from the youngest brother. "Do not provoke him, Garsiv. We are already all walking on threads and your pestering does not improve the situation. And Dastan," he continued, turning to his little brother, "you need to accept the fact that we do not know this boy. We need to question him, whether you like it or not. We need your cooperation with this, Brother. This boy likes you most, and it would only make sense that if he had a secret to tell, he would tell you before he would utter a syllable to any of us."

Dastan grunted and turned away from his brothers, running a hand through his hair. "I do not like this. And I don't have to, and I will not pretend to," he told them icily. "Fine," he bit out. "Let's go before I change my mind and hit all of you." Dastan turned on his heel and strode out of the hall in a terrible mood.

Garsiv huffed unpleasantly. "I'd like to see him try to hit me," he growled. Tus sent him a warning glare, though the middle Prince simply ignored it and followed his younger brother from the hall, his hands balled into tight fists and his knuckles white.

Tus smiled apologetically at the Princess and at his father who only gave him an understanding glance. "I better go after them before they decide to kill each other." Tus smiled sadly once more and followed his brothers out of the room, his prayer beads tinkling together as he went past.

Tamina looked over at her future father-in-law, truly surprised with everything that had just happened. "Are they always like this?" she whispered.

Sharaman nodded disappointedly. "Garsiv and Dastan have been known to butt heads over everything and anything quite often. And Tus has always been the one to stop their arguing. It makes me upset that they never learn to listen to the other's perspective without arguing, but there is nothing that I can do to remedy their attitudes now. They are already grown men and set in their ways and beliefs. At least that is one thing that they have in common with one another: they are both stubborn asses."

Tamina smiled in understanding. "Let's go speak with the boy. Dastan won't want to have to relay any information to us stragglers," she told him thoughtfully. She stood and gently took the King's arm and lifted him to his feet.

Tamina still clung to his arm as they walked out of the chamber, not wanting to see the man fall. She knew that he was fully capable of walking on his own and taking care of his well-being, but she simply did nor want to see any harm befall the man. Already she saw him as a father-figure, someone she would always be able to talk to when she couldn't with Dastan.

Sharaman smiled at her assistance. "You will make a good wife to my son. He needs someone level-headed in his bed," he told her.

Tamina laughed, briefly forgetting about the Dagger. "I am sure that your son would disagree with your thought that I am level-headed. I am of the belief that Dastan and I are perhaps far too similar and that is what leads us down those angry paths."

"In any case," Sharaman said, waving her comment away. "I do think that you will be good for him. And I think that he will be good for you."

Tamina frowned quite suddenly. She greatly appreciated all the Sharaman was doing and all that he was saying regarding her qualities, but it was not something that she was eager to speak about. There were times when she didn't even like speaking to her own fiancé about her feelings, and she definitely wasn't ready to speak about them with her future father-in-law. So, she didn't respond, and focused on getting to Ranin's chambers as quickly as possible.

"This is his room," she murmured once they arrived. The door was already slightly ajar - she suspected that was from the brothers going in already.

They walked in, and the Princess wasn't sure whether she felt disappointed or relieved at the situation in front of her.

Ranin was still there, sleeping in his bed peacefully, and the golden sun had peeked its head into the boy's room, tickling Ranin's face with its warm rays. The glow that filled the room was almost ethereal, and the child looked almost angelic, bathed in this golden glow and letting the warmth seep into his small body. The idea that one so small and precious could have stolen her mind was suddenly a silly idea, and she felt ashamed to have even thought that it was possible in the first place.

But yet, she had to be sure. Sometimes, it was the most beautiful of things that were the most treacherous and deceiving. This child could have stolen the Dagger yet, and simply been hiding behind this curtain of innocence all along, just trying to earn enough of Dastan's trust to make him seem unlikely.

Dastan stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the child. "Do you still believe that he could have done what you suggest? Look at him!" he whispered. "He is a child, not a murderer!"

"A boy who steals, Dastan does not need to look far before becoming a killer," Garsiv hissed back. "Wake him up." Dastan sent him a challenging glare, but Garsiv paid no heed. "Wake him up. Now. Or I will, and you can bet that I will not be as gentle as you."

Dastan's glare faltered for but a moment, and finally he sighed, defeated. He walked softly to the side of the bed and sat down, next to the child. He sent one last glare to Garsiv who returned it hardly. The young Prince bit his lip nervously before reaching out and grasping the boy's small shoulder. "Ranin?" he whispered close the boy's ear. He gave the child a small shake. "Ranin, wake up."

The child stirred under Dastan's hand, and Tamina could almost see Dastan's heart breaking at the thought of accusing the child of something so vicious.

"Dastan?" Ranin muttered, his brown eyes just opening, still groggy and clinging to sleep.

"Yes, it's me," Dastan replied. "Wake up."

Ranin opened his eyes further, and when he saw all of the others in his room, he jumped backwards and pressed his back firmly again the headboard of the bed.

"Hey, Ranin, it's okay. They are my family. Just my family. Ranin, look at me," Dastan coaxed soothingly, and if the situation hadn't been so dire, Tamina would have found his behavior with the boy almost endearing.

Ranin cast an uneasy glance at Dastan, his breathing ragged and scared. "You're going to send me away, aren't you? Please don't send me away! I will be good!"

"Look, Dastan, already he is apologizing for something," Garsiv snidely said.

"Stop it, Garsiv," Tus told his brotherly harshly.

"No," Garsiv replied. "What have you done, boy? Murder on that list?"

"Garsiv!" Dastan yelled, scaring the child who suddenly shrank further into the bed and pulled the covers up to his eyes. His eyes were wide and frightened.

"I haven't killed anybody!" Ranin exclaimed. Everyone paused to look at him for a moment. "I haven't! I have been inside the room the entire night! I swear! I didn't kill anybody! Dastan said I had to be good, and I told him that I would be! I promised him! And I would never break a promise!"

"You are a lying little shit," Garsiv hissed, making the boy's eyes bug out of his head from being cursed at. Tears began streaming down his cheeks and his shook his head vigorously.

"I didn't do it!" Ranin pleaded. "Please! You have to believe me! Dastan, Tamina, you believe me, don't you? Please believe me!"

"Children lie all the time. It's what they are good at," Garsiv continued. "Who else could have done something like this? A camel?" Garsiv snorted.

Dastan's face turned a sudden shade of red, and he realized that he couldn't take it anymore. Dastan stood and walked across the room to his brother before jutting his fist out and punching him in the jaw, dislocating it. "I told you to shut your damn mouth already. I won't say it again. Get out, or I will hit you again, I swear." Garsiv glared at his younger brother and actually raised his own fist to take a swing, but Dastan beat him to it again, punching him in the nose and making it bleed. Garsiv's head jerked to the side from the impact, and he reached up to wipe the blood away from his nose, staring at his coldly for a moment before looking back at Dastan.

But Dastan was on a one-track road now, and he punched Garsiv again, this time in the lip, splitting it wide open. "I said get out! And I meant it!" Garsiv looked at Dastan coldly. "Now!"

Garsiv wiped more blood away from his face and walked out of the room, but not before sending one last glare at the boy who was shaking with fear.

Dastan turned back to Ranin who shrunk back again. "I'm not going to hurt you, Ranin. I promise. And just like you said, I would never break a promise."

Ranin's bottom lip trembled ever so slightly and his eyes became filled with tears that he tried to inconspicuously brush away from his face with the blanket, though it was obvious. "I didn't kill anybody," he murmured.

"I know," Dastan replied, sitting down on the bed again. He turned to the rest of his family, who were still shell-shocked from the display of violence moments before. "Please leave," Dastan pleaded. "He's been put through enough without having you all look at him like you are."

Tus and Sharaman nodded and walked from the room quickly, leaving Tamina.

"Tamina?" Ranin uttered, looking at the Princess hopefully.

She bit her lip nervously, not knowing what to do. She never was perfect with children - it was obvious that that was Dastan's specialty, just like everything else. He was the romantic one, the fatherly one, the feeling one, the one who could fight. She could only protect a Dagger, and even with that one simple charge, she had failed.

She cast a nervous glance at Dastan who pleaded with her through his blue eyes. The last thing that Tamina wanted to do was hurt Dastan, but she just couldn't take this all right now. She felt worthless and scared, and she didn't know how to comfort a child with her own fears surrounding her and at the forefront of her mind. So, she looked away from the scene and at her feet.

As soon as she looked at her feet, Dastan knew that she wouldn't stay. She was afraid and preoccupied with other things. Granted, he could understand those things, but this boy needed her, just for a moment, perhaps only ten minutes. And she was going to reject him.

"I'm sorry," she muttered before turning on her heel and practically fleeing from the room.

Ranin looked absolutely heartbroken, and the tears were starting to come a little faster now, even when he tried to blink them away, there would be more to take their place. "She hates me," he cried. "Everybody hates me," he moaned, throwing himself underneath the covers to hide away. "I even hate me," he cried again, and those words nearly made Dastan cry too.

To hear that a boy, just a boy, hated himself - it was heartbreaking. He saw the blankets quiver, and Dastan quickly tore the blanket away from Ranin, who now hid his face in the crook of his arm.

"I don't hate you," Dastan whispered, rubbing Ranin's back gently and soothingly. "I think that you are a wonderful boy. It makes me sad to hear that you hate yourself, Ranin. No body should hate themselves. I wish that I could make you see that. I wish that I could show you just what a good person you really are, Ranin. One of the best, in my opinion. But if I can't change your mind about yourself, then maybe I shouldn't even try."

Ranin pulled away from his arm for a moment and looked at Dastan curiously. "You don't hate me?" Dastan shook his head. "Why?"

"Because you are a child, Ranin. A child who simply had to grow up too fast, and that makes me sad. You don't deserve to have everyone blame you whenever something goes wrong. And Tamina doesn't hate you either. She just has a lot on her mind right now, and she doesn't know how to handle everything that she is feeling. But I promise that she will understand soon enough. You just have to give her time. Just like I did, see? It's going to be alright. I promise."

Ranin looked down into his lap and twiddled his thumbs. "I didn't kill anybody," he whispered.

Dastan sighed and actually grabbed the boy and pulled him into his lap, holding the child close. There was just something about holding children that made him at ease. Their small hands wrapped around his neck, and their full weight in his arms, letting him know just how much this child actually depended on him. Dastan had to carry the child's weight. Feeling that innocence claw at his heart, reminding him of what it felt like to be a boy without a home. He shoulder starting feeling a little wet, but even that didn't deter Dastan. He couldn't understand why he was the only one who was able to believe the boy. Was it because he understood the troubles that plagued this child's mind? Was it because he could see himself in the those brown eyes? Maybe it was just a compilation of all of those things. Whatever it was, it didn't matter though. He believed Ranin, and if the others didn't, well then it was up to Dastan to make it alright. Dastan had to prove Ranin's innocence.

He found it silly. A child, who was depicted as innocent and pure throughout ages of literature was being framed for murder and for stealing a dagger.

"I believe you, Ranin," Dastan replied gently, stroking the boy's hair.

* * *

Garsiv stared at himself in the mirror distastefully. His jaw was slightly crooked, even though he had popped it back into place. His bottom lip had one slice that was covered in dried blood and was still swollen. His nose darker than the rest of his skin, a bruise already beginning to appear - not to mention that it was also crooked and still bleeding profusely. In the mirror he could see one of his wives sitting on his bed: Manela.

"Darling, if you would just let me take a look -" she started, coming closer to his side.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, raising his hand and making her stop.

"Darling, I am only trying to help you," she whispered, her bottom lip beginning to tremble.

"I don't want your help right now, Manela. Go. Leave me."

Manela nodded at first and began walking to the door. Surprisingly though, she turned around and gave him one last look. "Don't expect to receive my help anymore, Garsiv. I cannot live like a jewel confined to the treasury anymore. I am sure that this is probably not the best time to be voicing my feelings to you, but I thought that you would like to know. That way you may not inquire my whereabouts this evening when I do not present myself at dinner. I hope with all my heart that you may one day be able to look upon a woman with more than just lust, but know that I am not aspiring to be that one woman any longer." She walked carefully up to her husband and delicately kissed him on the cheek, grateful that he did not push her away for once. She loved her husband dearly, and she figured that she always would, but every time he looked at her, she could simply tell that her feelings were not reciprocated. He merely looked at her as nothing but a precious friend. And though for a while, she was able to endure that kind of affection, she felt like she couldn't anymore. Her heart broke when she looked at him, and she needed to escape. "Good bye, my darling," she whispered into his ear, her brown eyes beginning to fill themselves with tears.

She turned away and began making her way to his chamber door when he grabbed her wrist and stopped her. "Manela?" he asked, pleading with his eyes.

"Yes?" she replied, a lump suddenly appearing in her throat.

"I am sorry. You know this, don't you? Perhaps Dastan was right all along. I wish that I could give you what you seek, though I cannot deny that I do not love you in the way that you want me to. Please do not leave me feeling angry."

Manela nodded and hugged him briefly, a tear falling onto his shoulder. She knew that saying goodbye was going to be difficult, but she never knew that it would hurt her heart this terribly.

"I hope that you find a man who can love you as much as you deserve," he told her, pushing away a strand of black hair behind her ear.

She smiled a watery smile and then turned to leave, closing the wooden door behind her. She rushed to her room and grabbed the necessities, throwing on her riding cloak and rushing to the stables to find herself a mount. Without anyone recognizing her, she rode off and away from Alamut with the tears freely falling from her eyes now.

* * *

Garsiv stood again in front of the mirror, feeling terrible. His wife, his best friend, had left him. All because he didn't love her like he was supposed to. In a way, it made him angry to know that she had the gall to tell him she was leaving him. Women did not leave men. It was simple and an unspoken rule. Women were men's property, and she stepped out of her place to leave him.

But in the same way, he couldn't blame her. He knew that she was in love with him, and though he could honestly say that he showed no intention to love her and hurt her further, that didn't make him a better man. He could say that he didn't want to hurt her further by pretending to love her and then tell her that he didn't, but that would be a terrible lie. He had treated his first wife poorly, and he understood her desire to run away from him. So he let her go, and though he felt saddened by the loss of his best friend, he could at least say that he had done the right thing by her.

"Garsiv?" he heard a whisper as his door creaked open, and the thought of his wife disappeared from his mind, and a grand smile broke out onto his face.

"Isobel," he muttered, turning to stare at her petite form. Her green eyes shone brilliantly in front of him, and the smile on her face was enough to lift him far away from his troubles.

"What happened to you face?" she asked, rushing to his side and tracing the curves of his face with her nimble fingertips. Every touch she gave him was cooling and numbing, tracing all of the pain away.

"An altercation with my brother," Garsiv replied simply, allowing her to continue to wash away the pain from his features.

"I hope you did as much damage to him as he did to you," she teased, grabbing an abandoned washcloth to beginning washing away the blood running from his nose.

"No," Garsiv sighed.

She paused and looked at him curiously. "No?" she asked incredulously. "Why ever not? Did he not deserve to be returned with such violent markings?"

"I was out of my place, Isobel. It was justified," he said simply, looking away from her face for a brief moment before looking back into those green orbs.

"Your brother beat you, and you have nothing to retaliate with? That does not sound remotely fair to me, Garsiv. Your brother had no excuse to use violence against you, even if it was justified, like you say. That is childish and immature."

"So you such that I match his immaturity with immaturity of my own?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He never would have thought her to be this vengeful, but in a way, it ignited a fire in his bones, and he was beginning to see her point in the matter. Why had he not retaliated? Why did he so calmly let Dastan hit him?

"At least it would prevent a problem like this from happening in the future," she said, shrugging in indifference. "But it does not matter now, Garsiv. It was probably wise of you not to respond to your brother's taunts."

"Thank you," he told her, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it, staring into those green eyes again with a dark fire in his own.

She rolled her eyes at him, yet leaned up to kiss him anyway, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting him carry her away further into the chamber.

* * *

**Well, Garsiv kinda looks like a douche bag, huh? I know, you all are going to ask whether I hate him or not, but just know that I don't. He just happens to be the one who is pretty confrontational out of the bunch, and it only seemed logical that he would immediately jump to the conclusion that Ranin would have taken the Dagger. And of course, this means that Dastan has to jump to the rescue and save Ranin. And of course, Tamina…she's getting there, it's just gonna take a while.**

**So, who's got the Dagger? Hmm…Well, that's for me to know, and for you to find out, isn't it? Mwhahahaha. *clears throat awkwardly* Anyways…please send my a review if you guys are even out there and following this story still. Hope I haven't lost too many!**

**Love you all lots!**

**-Books**


	13. Making Preparations

**Hi, everyone! Nope, still not dead as crazy as that is to believe. I know you all must absolutely hate my guts for me not updating this fic in so long. I want you guys to know that I don't intend to abandon it. I do have a story-line planned for all of the characters. It's just that…well, I've had a terrible bout of writer's block, and every time I find the energy to type something down where this story is concerned, the inspiration just floats away after around a hundred words or so. I am trying. It's just gonna take me a while to get back into the swing of things.**

**I hope that you guys are still with me over here, and if you aren't, I totally get it. I have been a terrible update-r, and it sucks. I always hate it when writers I like don't update, and I'm doing the same thing to you guys. I hope you all can forgive me. Maybe? I'll get on my hands and knees here if you want me to.**

**Leave a review if you feel so inclined. And if not…well…then just don't hate me. I guess that's all I can ask for right? Enjoy!**

Sleep wasn't easy for any of the monarchs that night. The priceless Dagger was floating around somewhere in the world, and none of them had any idea where to even start. Even Ranin was nervous about what was going on in the palace. Dastan seemed incredibly nervous, and he wished that there was something that he could do for the Prince.

Tamina was beside herself with worry, lying awake in her chamber on her back, staring up at her perfectly carved ceiling. She always used to take a strange sense of comfort in the intricate carvings, trying to find hidden shapes when she was a little girl. But now, those shapes were at the back of her mind.

The Dagger was gone. Right when everything was perfect, she was thrown into another problem. Never before had her ancestors had so many difficulties with the Dagger. No one knew about it, and it would sit in its own room without being thought of once. It was peaceful.

But now that she was the Guardian, it only made sense that everything would have to go wrong on her watch. It was as if the gods were punishing her for something. What could she have done to offend them so? Falling in love with Dastan? No, her ancestors had had their matches… Maybe it was because he was the Persian who invaded her city? And she fell in love with a warrior? Yes, that was possible, however, this she would never regret. He was a good man, and he fully understood that what he had done was wrong.

The child? No, children were innocent things, even if she didn't understand them fully. She knew that she was destined to have children, in order for the Guardians to continue, but surely it could not be so terrible if she were to have a boy running around her home. And he wasn't even her child by blood, so that shouldn't count either.

"Tamina?" she heard, and she closed her eyes, trying to pretend she was asleep. The bed shifted a little, and the next thing she knew, Dastan's arms were wound tightly around her middle, and his face was buried in her hair. "I know you are awake."

She gave up and opened her eyes, looking at him worriedly, tears beginning to pool in her eyes, though she quickly blinked them away.

"Tamina, worrying about the knife isn't going to do us any good at two in the morning," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

This was something she never fully understood about her fiancé. His complete disregard for the Dagger was obvious, and though he probably was worried about it, it had never been the most important thing in his mind. For some odd reason, he cared more about her than he did about the antique piece of weaponry. She was nothing special; the Dagger should have been the thing in his eye. Not her. She was nothing without a Dagger, and he still didn't seem to realize this.

During their first adventure, he had only gone after the Dagger because it was his bargaining chip, or the way to save his family, and keep her happy. And even now, he didn't seem too concerned about it.

"Well then, what will?" she retorted.

"Sleeping for starters," he replied easily, kissing her cheek delicately. "Tamina, we need you well rested in order to find it. You are the one who is going to have to lead us here, and if you are passing out from exhaustion, then we won't get anything done. Go to sleep. We will find it. I promise," he swore. He pulled her closer to himself, and she felt a little more comforted about it.

She closed her eyes and snuggled further into Dastan, close enough to feel his breath slide over her neck, and she was finally able to fall asleep.

In the morning, they all sat at the breakfast table, not speaking, and eating lazily.

Garsiv was annoyed. Sitting here like degenerates would not get them any closer. After fifteen minutes of poking at their food with a fork and knife, he slammed his fists down on the table, startling everyone in the family.

"I don't understand how sitting her moping is going to help us at all," he commented.

"There's nothing for us to do, Garsiv," Sharaman told him. "We don't have any word on where it is, or who took it, so until something surfaces, we just need to wait."

"Now, that isn't true, Father," Dastan told him. "The first step would be to find out who took the Dagger. So, I think that the first logical step is to find out who has left or arrived at the palace at the time of it being stolen," he explained.

"One of the horses is missing from the stables as of this morning," Bis told them, having been informed of the situation. Since he was Dastan's best friend, he had been included in part of the search.

"Oh, that was Manela," Garsiv said. He looked at the rest of the monarchs, who all wore shocked looks on their faces. "Yes, I let her go. She wanted to leave, so I let her." They still continued staring at him. "I know that it isn't that common for a woman to be allowed to leave the man she is married to, but one less wife for me to look after," he justified, and when their looks didn't fade, he started getting impatient. "What?"

"You imbecile!" Tamina shouted, throwing her hands up in the air, biting her tongue and trying not to completely lose her temper.

Dastan took over from there. "You let her leave? Garsiv, do you never think about what your actions could result in? Did it not cross your mind for one moment that maybe, just maybe, Manela wasn't completely innocent in this? The day the Dagger is stolen, one of your wives leaves you. You don't find that the least bit strange?"

Once Garsiv realized the implications of what he had done, his eyes widened considerably, and he wanted to bury his face in his hands and disappear. But he had to fight for himself. "And you honestly think that Manela, one of the sweetest women in the world would steal the Dagger? What good would it do her?"

"What would anyone want the Dagger for?" Tamina retorted. "For power! You are so close-minded that you never see what you don't want to! Even when it is staring at you in the face! You put the blame so quickly on those you do not know, even a child! And yet, when evidence is turned against you, you refuse to acknowledge it!"

"I did not know this child! Excuse me for believing that perhaps a stranger who has been invited into our home-"

"This is not your home!" Tamina shrieked, standing up in her chair. "It is my home! You Persians, still thinking that you own absolutely everything! So greedy, so selfish! You do not get the chance to rule this city like you would your home! I make the rules, I make the accusations, and you will respect my authority!"

"Do not pretend to be so innocent!" Garsiv yelled back, standing at well. "You suspected the child just as much as I did, and you did not object to me making the accusation then! In fact, you were probably relieved I did your work for you, that way you wouldn't anger Dastan with your thoughts!"

"True! But at least I am accepting of new evidence and not rejecting it based on the fact she was your wife!"

"You don't know my wife! She would never do something like this!" he exclaimed.

"Well, then who would?"

"Stop it!" Sharaman demanded. "Just stop it! Sit down, both of you!"

Tamina's eyes turned into slits, and her face grew even redder if that was even possible. She gripped the edge of the table as tightly as she could, her knuckles going white. She hated being told what to do, especially by people who had no authority over her.

"Tamina," Dastan whispered, resting one of his large hands on top of hers. "Sit down; let it go. He's just trying to calm the situation. Please."

Tamina turned her glare to Dastan, though he met her gaze calmly, and she finally slumped over in the chair. Dastan tried to hold onto her hand, but she pulled it away, too furious to try to be soothed.

"Bickering like this is most definitely not going to help our cause in any way whatsoever," Sharaman continued. "The only way that we will be able to retrieve the Dagger is if we all work cohesively and without hidden agendas. We must be calm and collected. Your Majesty, I would have figured that you would have known such a thing as being ruler of your city."

Though Tamina knew that he hadn't meant to be overly condescending, she felt enflamed that he could even say something like that while she was in such a state. "You must forgive me," she said through clenched teeth. "The Dagger has never before been stolen before, and my only duty was to protect it from harm's way. And now it is gone. I would be inclined to believe that never before have you had such an item of such a value stolen out from underneath your very nose before. You have no right to tell how I am supposed to behave."

"If you would have had it better protected, it wouldn't have been stolen from under your nose!" Garsiv exclaimed, continuing their argument.

Dastan frowned, catching Tamina's arm before she could snap back at him. "You are one to talk," he said as calmly as he could. "Your wife walked right under your own nose with it, literally! You do not get to speak to her that way!"

"If she would have had better guards -"

'I said stop it!" Sharaman burst. "And I meant it! Are we all going to be adults about this? Or are all of you going to sit and cry like infants?" He looked at each of them.

Tus finally spoke up after a moment, "How likely is it that Manela knows where the rest of the Sand is?"

Garsiv threw his hands up in the air. "Well, brother, you have to look at the facts, and at the moment, this is our only option."

"So we won't even look for another?" Garsiv refused to believe that his wife could act in such a way. It just seemed too absurd! She was one of the most gentle and sweetest women he had ever met, and he was determined to defend her honor. Manela couldn't do something this terrible.

"Until we have exhausted everything possible for Manela," Tus replied.

"And when you all see that she didn't do anything, we will be leagues behind the true thief!"

"If we can make two different parties, would that satisfy you, Garsiv?" Sharaman asked.

Garsiv glared at his father before finally nodding in acceptance.

"We just don't have another lead at the moment," Tamina scoffed under her breath. She felt Dastan's hand slither into her own, and this time, she didn't push it away, instead gripped it tightly.

"Who else may have the Dagger then?" Dastan asked, voicing Tamina's worry.

"If it isn't Manela, then we need to look into all caravans that have left the city since the time of the robbery," Tus answered calmly, clutching his prayer beads loosely in his hands and their jingling could occasionally be heard in the awkward moments of the conversation.

"I can look into that immediately, Your Highness," Bis replied. He stood then and made his bow before walking from the chamber. Any excuse to abandon the tension filled chamber, he was going to use it. He was a warrior, yes, and his temper could rival even Garsiv's at times. However, monarchs had never made him feel overly comfortable. And it wasn't their fault, it was simply that he remembered being at the lowest level of the social class, his parents spitting at the thought of royalty. He could only trust Dastan, and that was the only reason he was involved in Persia's army. Dastan had encouraged him, and had given him the faith that Bis had needed.

"In the meantime," Dastan said gently. "We need to follow Manela. I know that you do not approve, Garsiv, but what action would you take if it had been one of Tus's wives?"

The chamber was quiet again, and Garsiv's whole demeanor crashed when he understood. He would have wanted to go after the other wife too, and he could not be hypocritical. He still didn't believe that it was Manela, but he knew that it needed to be done. "I am going with you to find her, then. She will need some comforting when she turns up innocent," he growled.

Dastan nodded in approval. "Who else can be trusted with this information, Tamina? We need to know who else we can send."

"Us all, preferably," she answered. "And handful of other soldiers will be able to go on the second scout. Bis would probably be able to lead them all best."

"You want to come with?" Sharaman asked surprised, and Tamina bit back a growl, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"Of course I want to come with," she retorted icily, clenching her fists at hers sides. She wasn't used to so many people questioning her authority, and especially regarding something so serious that none of them, save perhaps Dastan, really understood. "This Dagger is my burden, and it was stolen under my watch. I need to be the one to retrieve it, or at least to make an effort."

Sharaman sighed, looking confused. "I just do not see why you must come with. This is dangerous, Your Highness, and though I am sure you are fully capable of making such a journey, I would have to advise that you stay here. With your people is where you should be, no?"

"Then why are you not with your own?" she bit back at him, getting even more annoyed. "You, Persians," she hissed under her breath.

"Tamina is coming with us, Father," Dastan spoke, speaking up for his fiancée. He turned back to her and asked, "When would you think we should leave?"

"As soon as possible, Dastan, what a stupid question," Garsiv commented.

"Thank you for your enlightened answer, Garsiv, as always most helpful," Dastan replied. "When are we able to leave?" he rephrased his question, still looking at Tamina.

"Leaving in the middle of the day wouldn't do us much good," Garsiv interrupted. "It is scorching out there, and we wouldn't get very far. Leaving at nightfall or early morning would be best."

"Your Highness," Tamina growled, "if you cannot restrain yourself and keep those comments within your own head, I will ask you to leave and you will not be allowed on this expedition. The question, as I believe was directed to me, and unless I am physically incapable of answering, you are not to answer on my behalf."

The chamber was silent again as they watched the glaring match take place between Garsiv and Tamina. Both were angry and frazzled, and it was obvious that telling them to stop arguing was not going to solve any of the rifts that had been put between the two of them.

"Well," Tus finally intervened, standing from his spot and looking at the rest of the monarchs. "I do think that regardless of what time of day we are departing, I am going to go pack some of my things, just to be ready."

"We leave in the morning," Tamina stated, never breaking her gaze from Garsiv's. "Before sunrise."

"Well, then I shall begin immediately," Tus responded calmly before leaving. Sharaman sat a moment longer before sighing and getting up to leave as well.

"Tamina, we should pack our things," Dastan encouraged, standing and reaching for her hand.

The Princess looked at him warily before placing her small hand in his larger one, feeling slightly calmed by his touch. She stood and left the chamber with him, her mind wandering further and further away. She and Garsiv were going to have problems, that was a guarantee at this point. Some of the things that came out of his mouth made her want to strangle the bastard with her own two hands. He was going to make things difficult, trying to take over like that. Even Sharaman was beginning to grate on her nerves. She always hated being doubted, and though she understood that he meant well, it was not in his place or power to question her or to order her about like one of his wives. Dastan and Tus were her only hope at clinging onto sanity, and even then, she was starting to feel that tree was a small rift between her and her future husband, and she was scared that it would only grow as the problem continued to grow.

"Princess?" he asked coyly, reminding her of their past adventure together. She would have to stay positive. They may have had their problems before they were even a couple, but it was that adventure that brought the two of them together in the first place. Perhaps she would be lucky enough for this next one to push them closer together, though she was beginning to doubt it. Their whole relationship was built on a rocky foundation, and it was already being tested. "Tamina?" he asked again, dragging her away from her thoughts.

"What is it?" she asked him roughly.

Dastan looked at her worriedly but didn't comment on it. "What are we going to do about Ranin?"

Tamina sighed and brought her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Another problem that she would need to consider. Why was nothing going right? Was this how her life was going to be? Forever? Gods, she hoped not. She understood her duty to protect the Dagger, but this was getting to be almost too much. And now, she was going to have to take care of a little boy who she didn't even trust.

"Leave him here?" she suggested. "There certainly is no room for him on the trip. He is too young, and I do not want him knowing about the Dagger."

Dastan appeared to be considering what she said for a moment. "I understand that, however, I don't want to leave him here on his own. He has been abandoned before, and I don't think he would like it very much if we do that again to him."

"We are protecting him," she justified. "And he cannot know about the Dagger, and that is what this trip is about. We cannot let him come with us."

Dastan shook his head. "I won't leave him here. He is a child!"

"We have servants to take care of him, Dastan!" she hissed, feeling all of her anger return to her again. "This is dangerous! There is someone out there who knows about this Dagger and was fully capable of killing all of the guards to get it! And you want to invite a child to come with us? Where he could very well get killed?"

Dastan glared at her, not wanting to acknowledge that she was probably right about Ranin. "Think about it from his point of view," he pleaded pathetically, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Tamina huffed. "His point of view cannot matter! He is a child and this matter does not concern him! You have to understand that, Dastan! That by leaving him here, we are doing what is best for him. I don't want to see him any more hurt than you do, and because of that, I'm asking you to trust me here."

"What do you know of children?" he snapped.

"I happened to be one once. I was raised in a life that was filled with nothing but this Dagger and peril and a constant threat of someone trying to steal it. I will not raise a child like this if I don't have to, Dastan. He deserves to live his life as a child, ignorant! He should think that the truly worst nightmare out there is going hungry for a night or two!"

"That is the worst nightmare! You know nothing of being poor; you were raised in a palace! You know nothing of the troubles and obstacles this boy has had to face!" He marched up close to her and shoved his finger into her face.

"So you would rather throw him into a much more hostile, dangerous environment instead of leaving him in perfectly capable hands with food and water and a whole palace to wander in? Explain to me how that makes any sense!"

"He needs someone!"

"If you are so hell bent on staying with him, then why don't you stay here! I'll solve this problem like I solved the last one!" she screamed, beginning to walk away from him.

"That's rich!" he retorted, following after her. "Without me, you would have been killed! Day one!"

"Without you, I never would have been in this mess! Again! Damn it, Dastan, don't you see how trouble follows you around like a rat follows garbage?"

"You want me gone? Is that what I am to understand?" he demanded.

"Of course, I have to explain everything to you, don't I? Do whatever you want, Dastan! I don't care! But you are not bringing that boy with you tomorrow, so help me. I should throw you off of this expedition right now!" she threatened.

"As if you'd be able to last one day!" he mocked right back.

"Good night!" she yelled once they reached her quarters. She slammed the door in his face, and he could hear the lock of the door behind her.

"Good night!" he yelled right back. He was going to kill her.

Tamina stared at the door, feeling angry tears spring into her eyes, and she threw one of her shoes at the door, screaming. She was going to kill him.

**I know, I know, they are fighting again. With these two, it just seems like that is something that they are going to have to deal with in their relationship, right? They are both hot-headed people with very short tempers and can be quite aggressive when they want to be, can't they? I will try to make a quicker update this time, but no guarantees. But I will try. Smiley face.**

**So…leave a review if you're still with me! Maybe it'll influence me to write faster, yeah?**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	14. On the Road Again

**So, I'm not even going to say anything here. For once.**

**Leave a review if you feel so inclined!**

As the sun streamed into the room, Ranin's little body shifted under the heavy blankets, trying to shield himself from the assaulting light. He squeezed his eyes closed, fighting to hold onto the last remnants of sleep, but to no avail. He growled impatiently and threw the blankets off in annoyance, glaring at the sun, as if to make it disappear over the hill.

His bare feet touched the frozen floor, making him squeal in surprise and retract the chilled appendages back under the blankets. Every morning, he did this, and every morning he swore to himself never to do it again, yet every morning, his scabbed and scarred feet were bombarded with the cold floor. With more caution, he stretched his legs back out from under the covers and placed them carefully on the floor, letting them acclimate to the sudden temperature change.

The rest of his morning seemed just as routine as all of the others that he had spent in the palace. If he could even call a palace life routine, that is. The lovely old lady came in at her scheduled time to wash and clothe him, laughing at his fascination with the mystic jasmine scented bubbles.

He walked with a skip in his skip through the hallways, playfully avoiding the cracks in the slabs of marble. He would hop on one foot, staring at the cracks as if they were sheer cliff faces that he would have to majestically leap over to some make-believe damsel in a brave and courageous effort to save her from some demonic being. Much like he imagined the Prince Dastan would do to rescue the Princess Tamina from whatever terrible situation she would be in. It was the warrior's code, after all.

The little child couldn't help but ponder often how exactly Dastan had come to meet Tamina. Well, he mused as he avoided another treacherous crack, there was the obvious way of Dastan barging into their realm with sword in hand. He had probably trampled right into this very palace, intent on stopping some evil work that was bound to be happening. Only then to find the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld. And just like that, they probably had fallen in love, and he saved the day from the evil bald man.

Granted, he probably had a few facts wrong, and that only prompted him to want to know the real story. The desire led his feet in the direction of the Prince's room, eager to hear the no doubt, exciting tale of Dastan's journey to Alamut.

Ranin approached Dastan's door with a grand smile, raising a little fist to knock when the door opened on its own, the Prince himself standing on the other side, looking rather flustered and worried.

"Ranin," he breathed, running a hand over his face as he stared down at the child.

"Hello," Ranin chirped happily.

Dastan smiled softly and ruffled the child's hair. "What is it?" The Prince began walking out, having a bag draped over his broad shoulders and his sword tied meticulously around his waist. He closed the door behind him, jiggling the knob and smirking in satisfaction to see that it wouldn't open.

Ranin's curiosity increased dramatically at the sight of his Prince's attire. "What is in the bag?" he asked carefully.

Dastan froze and licked his lips, avoiding looking at the boy at all costs. "Things," he excused.

Ranin frowned, disappointed with the answer. "What kinds of things? And why do you have your sword? Are you… are you going somewhere?" The thought frightened him, and he could already begin to feel tears well up in his eyes. Was Dastan tired of him already? Did he want Ranin to leave? Or was he trying to escape Ranin and leave him? Just like his parents had done?

"Ranin…" Dastan trailed off in a tone that Ranin was all too familiar with.

"Did I do something wrong? I did, didn't I? I promise that I can be good. I won't bother you anymore, I promise. You don't have to leave me. _Please_ don't leave, Dastan! I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!"

Dastan furiously shook his head and dropped his bag onto the floor before squatting down in front of the boy to grab his face in his large hands. "You have done nothing wrong," he enunciated defiantly.

"Then why are you leaving?" Ranin countered, the sad tears morphing into angry ones, and he shoved Dastan's hands off of his face. "I haven't stolen anything, if that's what you're wondering," he pouted, now refusing to look at the Prince.

He could hear Dastan sigh. "I know you haven't," he said softly.

"Everyone leaves me," Ranin continued. "I should have known that you would leave me too. Well, don't bother. I'll leave myself." He turned on his heel, ready to run to his room to gather his few belongings. The tears were blurring his vision, yet he still tried to remain in control of his emotions. He was not going to appear to be weak in front of this man. He should have known a long time ago that this dream world wouldn't last. Dastan would grow to hate him and would want him gone.

Dastan roughly grabbed his arm and dragged him into a fatherly embrace. "I'm not leaving you, Ranin," he whispered. Ranin viciously tried to escape his captor's hold, shoving roughly, but the Prince's strength was no match for his weak arms. He collapsed fully in his arms, tears running freely down his face and onto the cotton shirt. "I would never leave you," Dastan whispered. "I just have to go somewhere."

"Where?" Ranin demanded.

"I don't know," the Prince replied with a shaky laugh. "I'm, uh, playing a game with someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know that either."

"What kind of game?" Ranin was getting annoyed with the empty answers.

"Like tag," Dastan supplied, and Ranin leaned out of his arms for a moment to look curiously at him. Princes played tag? That didn't seem very princely to Ranin, but what did he know of royalty?

"I'm pretty good at tag," the little boy said meekly. "I never get tagged by the other boys in the street. I'm a fast runner."

Dastan smiled thoughtfully at that and brushed the hair out of Ranin's face. "I used to be pretty good at tag too. It was one of my favorite games as a child."

"Is that why you are playing it now? Because it's one of your favorite games?" Ranin asked curiously.

"No. This time I don't want to play."

"Then why are you playing?" the boy continued to gripe. "When I don't want to play, I just tell the other boys that I don't want to, and then they leave me alone."

"Well, have you ever been tagged and then said that you don't want to play?" the Prince asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Of course. But then the other boys call me a sissy because I don't like being it."

Dastan nodded. "Well, I've just been tagged, see? And I don't want the others to call me a sissy. So, I have to play until I tag someone."

Ranin frowned. "You could tag me?" he suggested.

"No, because this game is only for the grown ups. It's a lot more dangerous than the games in the street."

"Is that why you have your sword?"

"Yes, Ranin," Dastan soothed. "But I will come back. I promise. I just have to tag someone first. Then I will come home, and you and I can play tag like the boys in the street. This place has a lot of good hiding places." He laughed softly. "You'll probably even beat me!"

Ranin smiled. "How long will you be playing?"

Dastan's smile turned into a frown and he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

"Maybe I could come with you? I can find the person you want to tag, and then we can come home? It will go a lot faster that way."

"Ranin, no. It's too dangerous," Dastan said with a certain finality that made Ranin shrink back with the harshness of his voice. "I wish you could come with me. I really do. But you have to stay here where it is safe. You are the man of the house while I'm gone. You have to take care of all of the girls. They will be scared, and you have to protect them."

"Is Princess Tamina going with you?" he interrupted.

Dastan hesitated. "Yes, she is."

"And you are going to protect her?"

"If she'll let me," the Prince muttered doubtfully.

"Are you two mad at each other again?" Ranin guessed. They always seemed to be mad at each other.

"You don't worry about that. Everything is going to be fine." Dastan smiled weakly at him, and Ranin rolled his eyes.

"She's always angry at you," Ranin commented.

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Dastan replied with a dry laugh.

"But you still want to protect her?" He couldn't really understand Dastan's logic. If Tamina didn't want to be protected, then why was he bothering to?

"You ask far too many questions," Dastan stated with a smile. He stood to his feet and ruffled Ranin's hair once more. "Remember what I said? You have to be the man of the house. My brothers and father aren't going to be here either. They want to play the game too." He grasped Ranin's shoulders tightly with a sudden urgency. "It is a secret game of tag, Ranin. Only a few grown ups are allowed to play. You can't tell anyone else that we are playing. It has to stay a secret, do you understand?"

"Why does it have to be a secret?"

"Because we only want to tag one person. And if there are more people playing, that will make it hard to find this one person," he answered calmly.

"And yet you don't know who this one person is?" Ranin teased, folding his arms and looking at Dastan with a smug smile.

"Promise me that you won't tell anyone, Ranin," Dastan demanded.

Ranin thought the whole game of tag was silly. Grown ups surely had better things to do with their time than to play a secret game of tag with each other. And the fact that they were all leaving to play this game made it seem even more silly. He didn't know much about monarchs and what they were supposed to do, but he was pretty sure that they weren't supposed to be playing childish games while there was a city to run and people to take care of. "I won't tell anyone," he finally said, rolling his eyes.

Dastan smiled once more down at him with pride. "You're a good boy, Ranin."

"I still think that this game is stupid," Ranin barked as they began making their way to the front of the palace.

The Prince was quiet for a very long time, only resting his hand on Ranin's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze of support.

Once they made it to the stables, Ranin looked on with wonder as he saw many of the guards standing around well groomed horses, throwing packs over the rears of the animals. "It looks like a lot of people know about your game already," he said softly, subconsciously shrinking into the Prince's side for protection.

They weren't scary men by any means, but with all of the hard metal wrapped tightly around them and funny looking helmets covering their dark colored heads, it made Ranin feel even smaller. Especially when they all climbed on top of their horses, who were pounding their hooves in anticipation and whinnying anxiously.

"Dastan," he heard and saw the Princess on top of a horse of her own, glaring at the Prince beside him and casting a glance at Ranin.

"Tamina," Dastan replied coolly, giving Ranin's shoulder another squeeze. "Don't you have a group to boss around?"

"You're late," she snapped, ignoring the question.

"You haven't left yet," he retorted, gesturing to the horses and the soldiers still climbing on their saddled backs.

"We were waiting for you," she growled.

"How generous of you," he mocked.

Tamina scoffed and looked down at Ranin, her gaze softening just for a moment before hardening and glaring at Dastan. "We talked about this last night, if I recall."

Dastan smirked. "Thank you for refreshing my memory. Because my memory is so dreadful after a twelve hour period."

"Dastan…" she said in a warning tone.

"No worries, Princess," he soothed sarcastically. "Wouldn't do anything that would so much as put a crimp in your plans. You _know_ how I couldn't bear it if you were angry with my actions."

"Do _not_ mock me."

"And do _not_ take me for a rebellious fiancé," he stated before turning his back on her and looking down at Ranin. "Man of the house," he said quietly.

Ranin nodded in determination. "Secret game of tag," he added, happy to see Dastan smile at his words. Ranin then frowned and felt tears come back into his eyes again. "Promise you'll come back?"

"I promise. I am looking forward to beating you at our game of tag," he teased before hugging him close. "Everything is going to be alright. I'll be back before you know it."

Ranin nodded and hugged the Prince back.

"Dastan, we need to leave," Prince Tus called regally from the top of his horse.

Dastan nodded solemnly and pulled away, ruffling Ranin's hair one last time before walking away to his own horse.

Ranin watched the scene unfold before him. Dastan climbed aboard the horse, settling himself in his saddle. He smiled softly at Ranin, and this only seemed to make the boy even more depressed by the Prince's untimely departure.

He watched as the party began trotting out of the stables, Dastan giving him one last glance before leaving to trot beside Princes Tus and Garsiv.

There were too many emotions running through Ranin at that moment, and it was difficult to see the world as clearly and carefully as Dastan seemed to. The desire to follow the Prince's orders was at the forefront of his mind. He did not want to disappoint the one man who had shown him kindness. And yet the desire to remain at Dastan's side was equally strong. He felt alone without the Prince, and already he could feel his heart wallow in grief at his caretaker's departure. Maybe, if he went with the Prince, he could find the person they all wanted to tag faster, and then they could all come home and play the game of tag with Dastan.

He couldn't let Dastan go alone. Dastan needed him to find that person. Because surely, Dastan had long since forgotten how to be a good player at tag, and he would need help from an expert like himself. Dastan would be grateful for him.

That was the thought that Ranin chanted to himself as he sprinted into the distance after the caravan. He hadn't been lying when he had told Dastan that he was the best at tag and that he was the fastest runner. His wiry legs carried him swiftly down the streets, making it seem like he was flying through the air.

He knew the fastest routes through the city, and employed every one of them to beat the caravan to the exit. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, clothesline to clothesline, and through each little market, he arrived at the only exit to the city in record timing, long before the caravan. He took a moment to pant and wheeze a little, squinting into the harsh sunlight as he waited patiently.

As they began to arrive, Ranin observed them studiously, hiding behind a basket of apples. There were a few covered wagons with them and he knew that that was where he was going to have to hide if he wanted to stay with Dastan. If they found him, it would have to be far too late to turn around and take him back. Meaning he would have to stay quiet for several hours at the bare minimum, longer if possible.

As they left the city, he noticed immediately that they seemed to be splitting off into two groups, and that gave him pause. He couldn't very well jump into a wagon that wasn't following Dastan. It appeared that King Sharaman, Prince Tus, and General Bis were separating from the group while Princess Tamina, Prince Garsiv, and Dastan were at the head of the other.

Sighing, Ranin charged after that caravan, leaping with a small yelp into one of the wagons when he caught up with them. There was food everywhere, surrounding him, as well as canteens of fresh, cool water, which he drank from eagerly in his moment of tiredness.

However, that wasn't the main concern at the moment. He squeezed his eyes shut, just waiting for the caravan to come to a stop and find him in the wagon. If they found him now, there would be no hesitation to take him back to the palace.

But the wagon continued, meaning that the whole group continued with it. After another minute of nothing happening, Ranin smiled gleefully and crawled into the corner, finding a blanket of sorts and throwing it over himself in disguise. Now, he would wait.

Dastan would be so happy once he learned that little Ranin had followed to help him with his game of tag. He just knew it.

"So, you were wise enough to leave the child behind?" Tamina asked in a smug voice as she broadsided Dastan's horse with her own.

"Arrogance does not become you, Princess," Dastan retorted.

"How'd you ever fall for her then?" Garsiv mumbled from beside him.

"Quite a just question, Garsiv," Dastan acknowledged. "For it is one of her only moods, after all, isn't it, Tamina?"

"How would you know?" she snapped. "All of your time was spent attracting trouble."

"Meaning that I was attracting you then?" he teased, raising his eyebrow.

"Oh, aren't you comical? Give me a moment's pause so that I may catch my breath from laughing."

"Most certainly," Dastan replied, halting his horse and therefore the whole caravan. "Go on and have your laugh."

Tamina glared furiously at him before giving her horse a kick in the rump to move along and leave him. She could distinctly hear Dastan's laugh before hearing his horse trot up beside hers. "You are unbearable."

"As you have told me before," he stated with a cocky smile. She tried her best to maintain her glare, but eventually she had to look away. Even when she was angry with him, that smile always made her breath catch, and she hated it. He reached over and took her hand, making her scoff and try to pull it away, yet he held it firm, and she was powerless to get away. "Tamina…" he started.

"What?" she smarted.

"I don't have the energy to stay mad like this for forever. And I know you don't either. We should focus all of our energy on getting whoever stole the Dagger and on nothing else." He squeezed her hand, and she frowned, staring at how his fingers clasped tightly around her own, more delicate ones. She wanted to hate him. She really did. "I forgive you," he said gently.

Hearing that, she yanked forcefully on her hand, succeeding in pulling it away from him. "I don't recall ever apologizing!" she yelled before setting her horse into a strong gallop, leaving him behind. Oh, the nerve of him! It was his fault! He knew damn well that the child couldn't come on their excursion, and when he was left behind, she figured that it had been because Dastan had finally come to his senses and realized that Tamina had been right all along. And yet, he had the audacity to make it seem like the blame needed to be put on _her_ for their argument! _Nothing_ was blessed Dastan's fault! He was the perfect, stoic little _angel _in the family! Pretending to make peace while silently making everyone believe that it had been her fault all along! How she could have expected anything else was beyond her.

"Don't be mad at him!" she heard, and everyone in the caravan stopped, yards behind her. She turned her head, noticing everyone staring disbelievingly at the wagon.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she watched Dastan draw his sword and dismount his horse with a dusty thud. He warily came upon the wagon, moving aside the covering fabric to stare inside. What he saw apparently astonished him, because the hold on his weapon loosened, and she could see his blue eyes widen. Nevertheless, he dropped the flap and turned back to the squadron. "There's nothing in there. I don't know where that came from," he blubbered shamelessly.

"That was a very lazy investigation," Tamina remarked suspiciously, dismounting and walking up to the wagon.

Dastan stepped in front of her and held his hands up. "You don't trust my judgment?"

"I know that voice, Dastan," she hissed quietly so that only he could hear.

He gulped in apprehension, validating her thoughts. "Princess…"

"Prince…" she retorted in the same, whining manner before shoving him roughly aside and opened the tent like structure on the wagon.

Just as she suspected, a little boy peered out at her sheepishly, and she couldn't stop the curse erupting from her lips. "Dastan…"

"I didn't know he was here; I swear to you, Tamina," Dastan pledged. "I told him explicitly to stay behind."

"And yet, here he is. I knew you had accepted my argument a little too easily to be so calm about it this morning. Now, we are half a day's journey from Alamut, and we don't have the time to take him back. What a sly fox you are, Persian," she growled.

Dastan flinched at the title, closing his eyes and biting his lip. She hadn't called him that since they first met, and though the name hadn't stunned him so greatly then, it came out of her mouth now like a curse, evil and cunning, and it stung him. "Tamina, I swear," he pleaded weakly. Why wouldn't she just believe him?

"Your promises don't mean anything to me right now. I told you explicitly that he could not be brought along, and you defied my order!" she yelled.

"Since when have I ever followed your orders?!" he retorted, throwing his hands high into the air in defiance. "Ranin, come out of there." He turned back to the carriage, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as the pitter patter of the boy's feet scurried through the wagon and landed on the sandy ground beside him. He could hear everyone gasp in shock at the sight of him. "Ranin -"

"I thought you would need help," the little boy blurted.

"Oh, and help with what exactly, Dastan?" Tamina questioned, folding her arms and looking at him. "What did you tell him?"

"With the game of tag, of course," Ranin answered. "He said that the grown ups were looking for someone to tag, and then he would come home and play with me some more. I just thought that since I am really good at tag, I could help and get you the person faster." He grinned excitedly, and Tamina felt her anger begin to wither at the sight of the child's unabashed happiness.

"Tag?" she retorted, looking at Dastan further. "You told him we were playing _tag?"_

"What else was I supposed to tell an eight-year-old?" Dastan exclaimed.

"You lied?" Ranin asked, looking up at the Prince with shock.

"Great, Tamina, look what you've done now!" Dastan yelled.

"Me?" she asked incredulously. "He's here because of you!"

"Because you wouldn't let me take him!"

"You don't want me, Princess?" Ranin cried, looking up at her, and melting her to the spot.

"Ranin -"

"If you didn't want me you should have just said so, and I would have left you alone!" Ranin exclaimed before charging fully at Dastan, wrapping his petite arms around his muscular legs and sobbing.

Dastan sighed and picked the boy up, holding him close. "I told him, Tamina," he said softly. "I promise you that is not a lie."

He walked away from her, and she frowned, staring at the two of them, Ranin weeping into Dastan's shirt, and Dastan making shushing noises and whispering gentle words into the ears of the child. She wanted to scream, hit him, kill him, and yet all that her body could think of doing at the moment was cry.

All of her guards and one of the maids were staring at her invasively, and she sniffled unceremoniously, not meeting any of their gazes. "We need to get moving," she said urgently, marching forward to her horse and straddling it. No one moved, and she bit her lip, trying to hold in the tears. This was all so much easier when it was just her and Dastan traveling. She didn't have to be afraid of displaying emotion or of not acting like a proper and respectable monarch. Here, everyone was expecting her to be on her best behavior, and she had the inkling that she wasn't going to be able to keep up that appearance for forever. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised at all if, by the end of this expedition, all of her people would be fawning over the beloved Prince Dastan. She certainly was at the end of their last adventure.

Dastan had not only stolen her kingdom from her, but he was now going to steal her own people away from her. All with that charming, rumbling laugh of his and the addictive, unnatural blue of his soothing, kind eyes.

"Isobel, why don't you make yourself useful and take the child?" Tamina barked at the handmaid. The woman cast a wary glance at Garsiv before walking slowly up to the youngest Prince. So Tamina was going to lose them all to Garsiv too, apparently. Why not? It'll just make her life the brighter, she thought darkly.

"Your Highness?" She held her hands outstretched for the child.

Ranin gripped the Prince tighter and sobbed more. "I - I think that it might be best if I am with him for a while. Thank you," Dastan excused before sloppily climbing back onto his horse and seating the child in front of him. "Ranin, dry your tears," he whispered. "You'll get sand in your eyes." He turned back to the people, looking at him as if they were awaiting his instruction while Tamina sat poised in her saddle as if nothing bothered her. But he knew better. She was greatly disturbed and was just doing everything in her power to hide it all. "What are you waiting for? His pain isn't for your amusement! Get moving!" he commanded.

Everyone grumbled and shifted uncomfortably as they trotted past Dastan, looking nervous.

Tamina's horse paused next to his, and he roughly grabbed her arm, yanking her close. For a brief second, he could see fear lingering in the chocolate brown pools, but she pushed it away, glaring at him with hatred instead. "Apologize," he growled. "Now."

She blinked in surprise and looked at the precious child on the saddle, still wiping furiously at his tears. "What he suspects were never my feelings. You allowed him to believe such perverse notions." His grip on her arm tightened. "Dastan, you're hurting me," she whimpered, expecting him to release her in an instant, but his fingers squeezed even more.

"He's waiting," he stated, the kind blue of his eyes flashing in warning, and making her gulp in fright. Dastan would never hurt her. He loved her. Or at least that was what he had told her countless times.

"Ranin?" she started nervously, squinting her eyes at Dastan one last time before looking down at the child. "Ranin, what you think I think of you is incorrect." Dastan huffed in disapproval, and the boy continued to cry. She sighed, and started again, "You mistake my anger at seeing you for hatred, Ranin. I don't hate you. I… I'm worried for you. You were meant to stay at the palace, where it would be safe."

"Dastan said that this game was dangerous," Ranin admitted with a sniffle.

Tamina sighed once more and tentatively tugged on her captured arm, giving Dastan a careful look. He let go of her then and stared at her. With her hand, she reached out and swept the brown hair out of the boy's face, stroking his cheek softly with her knuckle. "I'm glad to hear that he took your safety into account," she mentioned. "I simply did not want you to get hurt. And the… _game_… we are playing… well, you could get hurt. And I couldn't bear that. And I know for sure that Dastan wouldn't be able to bear it, either."

"He didn't know I came with him," Ranin continued, defending the Prince vehemently, and she smiled at the boy's loyalty to him.

"Well, I suppose I could trust you. You wouldn't lie to me," she told him, glancing up at Dastan with regret.

"He wouldn't lie to you either. He loves you," Ranin chirped.

"Alright, that's quite enough from you," Dastan said playfully, ruffling the boy's hair. "You remember that woman? Isobel? Why don't you go sit with her in the wagon for a while? I think that she is done riding for today," he told him.

Within a minute or so, Dastan appeared back at her side, Ranin out of the saddle and eating an apple from inside the wagon with Isobel.

They both were silent, and Tamina let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding. Tentatively, she reached for his hand, looking up at him in worry that he would brush her away, but when he clung to her hand tightly and entwined their fingers, she smiled at him. "I'm sorry," she murmured, breaking that silence.

"I am too, Tamina. You know that I wouldn't lie to you. I know that you didn't want him coming along on the trip, and I really didn't intend for him to come along. I told him that this was dangerous, and that he would have to wait at the palace for us to return, and -"

"I trust you," she interrupted.

Dastan grinned like a madman at her, just like he had when they had been swimming in that oasis on their last adventure. It made her relax a little bit more in the saddle, and she looked down at their fingers, seeing his callused thumb making circles on the back of her palm.

He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and she blushed, looking up at the others to see if any of them had noticed the exchange. She heard him laugh before she felt him turn her head and press another kiss on her lips, stifling her gasp.

She shoved him off of her quickly, looking around once again for any staring, but found none.

"Princess, no one is watching," he teased.

"That doesn't mean they couldn't be," she reminded.

He grinned once more and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Everything was alright again. And was all that mattered to her.

**Well, there we are. So much arguing! I really am sorry about that, but you know that it wouldn't be authentic if they weren't biting each other's heads off every other minute. At least little Ranin was there to kinda pick up the pieces, right? Or, I guess you could say that he was also there to rile them up again, but hey! Whatevs?**

**And yes, I also know that there wasn't a whole lot of plot going on here, but I promise the next chapter will be full of plot. We just had to get over the argument hurdle. Can't work when you're pissed. At least, that's my theory.**

**I once again apologize sincerely for the wait (maybe the length makes up for it just a tinie, tinie bit? And if there are any reviewers out there who haven't given up on this story, it would be wonderful to hear from you!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


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